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#ONE OF THOSE BARS THEY HAVE IN ELEVATORS
kitkatscabinet · 7 months
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Don't feed him he'll come back
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simon riley x neighbour! reader
summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.
word count: 1.6k
part 2 here
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There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment block. Though it feels more accurate to say he’s an occasional visitor. He comes and goes, like a lost spirit, unsure and aimlessly wandering. He slinks silently through the hallways like a wraith in the few instances when he is there. 
The first time you see him is just a glimpse from the corner of your eye, a large hulking shadow standing at the door next to your apartment as you step out from yours. 
Your feet stutter to a stop, the landlord had mentioned a neighbour but in the 3 months you’d lived there you’d never seen him. As if sensing your eyes lingering curiously on his form, deep brown eyes turn to meet yours. You can make out no other details of his face, the black material of his balaclava obscuring most of his features. 
A century could have passed in those few seconds and you doubt you’d have noticed. Despite the weariness in his gaze, you found yourself pulled into the deep pools of those stunning eyes. Like a predator, his gaze never moves from your body, even as you offer him a friendly smile and wave before walking down the hall to continue your day. 
You’d heard the uneasily whispered tales of the Ghost that haunted the apartment next to yours from some of the older tenants, though you’d never put much stock into the idle gossip. His burning gaze bores into your back and follows until the doors of the elevator close and you suppose you should feel intimidated. 
It’s hard to conjure up any such feelings, even with the knowledge of the wariness he elicits in others. It’s hard to fear the hulking figure of the Ghost when he had such sad eyes. 
He hid it well but you recognised the loneliness that lined his shoulders, the bone-deep exhaustion for life that managed to slip through tiny cracks in his self-imposed shield. 
You suppose at that moment that even Ghosts can be haunted. 
Maybe that’s why you found yourself knocking on his door later that evening with the tray of pasta bake. Initially, you’d made a large batch to have a few days left over for yourself. Yet just as you opened your fridge you’d hesitated, mind flashing to the man next door. Did he have any food for himself? There was likely nothing fresh, and he’d seemed too exhausted to pull himself to the grocery store during the brief encounter earlier. 
Donning your Crocs, you’d marched over and knocked on his door before it properly registered that you were in pyjamas. The door swings open and your eyes trail up, the balaclava is gone, replaced with a simple black face mask letting you glimpse blond hair. 
“Sorry if this is a bit intrusive, but I figured you probably didn’t have any food so…” you trailed off, pushing the tray towards him, expectantly waiting for him to grab it. It took a few seconds before he robotically took the tray, probably out of sheer confusion more than anything else. Stepping back before he could return the food you offered one last smile before fleeing to the sanctuary of your apartment. 
Two days later you exit your apartment to an empty and cleaned tray, a small note with a simple ‘thank you’ placed within. 
His name’s Simon, and apart from an introduction and the occasional dish left at his door, you don’t actually interact with him again until nearly a month later. And that had simply been a case of forced proximity a la broken elevator style. 
Simon remained unflappable as ever, and it’s at that moment you decide to try and get a reaction that isn’t stoic silence. 
“A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and …cola” Brown eyes turned to look at you curiously, brow raised to let you know he was listening. “Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.” 
The joke doesn’t land, silence is the only reward for your comedy genius. “Ok, playing hardball. Alright then… Why did Susan fall off the swings?” Again, there is no answer, but a glance at his relaxed posture indicates he’s listening. “Because she had no arms.” 
No laugh but you blaze ahead. 
“Knock knock.” It takes a few seconds but with a playful glare, he responds quietly and with a tinge of amusement. 
“Who’s there?” It’s not the first time you’ve heard his voice, but it still births a serious case of butterflies in your gut that takes more than a few seconds to fight down and regain your composure. 
“Not Susan.” You can’t stop the peal of your giggles at that one, and while you swear you see the corner of his cheek curve upwards a little it’s not enough for you to be satisfied. 
“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I guess it’s time for the big guns. You better prepare yourself Riley 'cause I’m done holding back.” You pause for a few seconds to let the anticipation settle. 
“What is… Whitney Houston’s favourite type of coordination?” You take a deep breath before positively belting out, “HAAAAAAAND-EEEEEYE.” Whether it’s the shock from the sudden musical number or the joke itself you’re finally rewarded with a faint chuckle. 
“Aha!” you shout in triumph, a smug grin splitting your face, “I heard that laugh, you can do more scowl!”
The doors suddenly open with a ding and Simon pushes off the wall, but not before rolling his eyes playfully your way. Silence once again descends during the walk to your respective apartments, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Swiping your key card it’s just as you step through the threshold that you hear it, 
“Why did the chicken go the seance? To get to the other side.” Whipping your head around, you are met with the sight of his door closing behind his large frame, but a win is a win and you celebrate mentally over the exchange. 
The next time you leave a dish at his door it comes with a written joke. Sure enough, a few days later you received one back. The months start to blur, and your Ghost comes and goes, but the jokes remain. 
Month three sees you snagging his number, a daily joke sent his way even when he can’t respond. Because as much as Simon Riley tried to hide his hurts from the world, he couldn’t hide them from you. 
You’ve loved a soldier before in your brother, can see the signs and smell the gunsmoke and blood from miles away. Apart from his team, it becomes obvious the man has nobody left, and believes he doesn’t deserve to be cared for.
You’re not foolish enough to think you can be that for him, but you are understanding enough to give him the choice. So you continue to send him jokes, puns, pictures of your cat Bingbong and anything that you think will get him to at least smile.  
Three months turns to six turns to eight. He’s not physically there most of the time but you take every opportunity he is to coax him from the loneliness of his apartment like a stray kitten.
Once-a-week dinners at least. Freely sharing your life’s story without expecting anything in return. One evening you’d plopped your chunky tuxedo cat down on his lap and watched him freeze, hands hovering with wide eyes as he considered the ball of fur making biscuits on his thigh. 
It was cute. He was cute. Even when he whipped around to glare when you took a photo, the corners of his lips downturned and tugged at the scars on his face. His bare face wasn’t necessarily a new sight but it causes your breath to hitch nonetheless. 
Something you think he notices given the way his lips quirked up suddenly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes you huffed before plonking yourself down next to him on the couch. Bingbong doesn’t scramble onto your lap like you expect, instead deciding to remain on his new favourite human, traitor. 
You pay very little attention to the movie even though you’d chosen it, too acutely focused on the large bulk of Simon next to you. Your shoulder rests against his arm, his body heat emanating from beneath his hoodie and absorbing into your skin. 
You’ve never been one to fall asleep during movies, but there’s something about Simon’s presence that soothes you, lulling you into a restful slumber as you slump against his chest. Bingbong meows his discontent as you accidentally squish him, jumping away with a huff, none of which you notice. 
It’s the sun shining straight onto your face through the open blinds that wakes you the next morning, a groan of confusion leaving your lips as you stretch and look around to orient yourself. 
Sitting up, the blanket that you just now realised covered your form fell down to your waist. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes your phone falls to the floor when you stand, the screen flicking on to display the time. 
It’s not until you sleepily stumble into your bedroom, plugging your nearly dead phone in and face-planting onto your pillow that you realise Simon must have tucked you in. The smile that covers your face is so wide it is painful and you fall asleep once more, dreaming of the phantom sensation of his arms wrapped around you.
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oopsdevil · 7 months
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COD + Tropes
which trope do they fall into when it comes to you.
SIMON GHOST RILEY + FWB TO LOVERS
i have said it before but simon really struggles when it comes to relationships.
he insisted that this was a casual thing but soon realized that's not true. from the way his heart beats faster when you rarely cuddle, to his trouble sleeping wondering if maybe you were with some other bloke. his insecurities got the best of him and he would end up saying something mean out of jealousy. when he saw you took offense to it he decided in four seconds that he was not gonna lose you. he confessed his feelings (in a sentence or two) and since then he has no problem with everyone knowing you are his.
KYLE GAZ GARRICK + THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY
kyle was always a romantic. outspoken, proud romantic. you guys probably met in high school and just fell in love. you both knew you were it for each other but everyone kept insisting it was just a first love kind of thing. it was not.
circumstances brought kyle into the army and leaving you was the hardest of it all. you both also decided staying together was just gonna be painful so you broke up.
a couple years later kyle came home and got his life together as an adult. after seeing the reality of bills, rent, taxes and just life, he realized maybe he doesn't wanna do it at all without you. a call and a few tears is all it took for admitting you are still each others soulmates.
JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + FAKE DATING
look at me in the eyes and tell me this is not HIS trope. it was simply meant to be. maybe he saw you in a bar and some guy was being too insisting for his liking, maybe johnny got sick of his family asking about a future wedding or maybe gaz told you guys you couldn't pull it off and you took the bet. doesn't matter, but it happened.
after months of intense eye contact across the room, flushed faces when realizing you were holding hands but there was no one around and holding you by your hips for group pictures, johnny felt his stomach turn when you mentioned something about going on a date with some other soldier for real.
next thing you knew he was kissing you against a bathroom door. really kissing you, not like those pecks for the public that always left you wanting more. in breathless sentences you both decided to be together like you always wanted (probably in a quick to be continued kinda way so you could keep kissing)
KÖNIG + SLOW BURN
it took him years. years.
from the moment he saw you in base he was thankful his hood could hide his red face when he developed a crush in about 15 seconds. he was also very surprised when you just talked to him.
könig kept you as a friend for years and himself busy with missions, it wasn't until you were thinking about transferring when he decided you wouldn't do it. you can't just go, right?
the only condition to staying was a very long conversation with him, where you admitted being in love with him for the longest time, and thinking maybe he felt the same way. but after that many years you needed to have him now, or just try to move on.
i don't think könig ever felt that relived. he mumbled something in german, suddenly ripping his hood off and kinda tackled you to the bed in a hug. you laughed and decided yeah, this is gonna work.
JOHN PRICE + FORCED PROXIMITY/ SECRET RELATIONSHIP
having a new secretary in his office was the last thing john needed.
he was sure it was about the fact that it was someone new in his personal space, someone who knew nothing about his routine.
it obviously had nothing to do with the fact that he looked at you longer than he looked at papers. or about your accent being so distracting to him that you had to say most things twice.
being trapped in an elevator with him was the last thing you needed.
again, its about the fact that you have so many things to do for your impatient boss (not about his cologne being intoxicating and his shoulders looking a little too big right now)
neither of you knew how it happened, but it did. and you were sure he pressed you against every inch of the elevators walls while kissing you like a mad man.
the truth is everyone else on the team knew the reason why you drove each other crazy, and john was more than grateful when the person who opened the elevator doors and saw the state of you was simon.
after fixing your clothes and an awkward apologize to simon, you talked about it.
having a secret relationship with him didn't last long, this man likes to move fast. but after the elevator incident, you were more than okay with that.
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clockwayswrites · 5 months
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City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 9
WC: 1088, Masterpost
Cass hummed happily. Moving their new brother to the better safe house had gone so well that Cass was finally getting to meet him— to meet Danny! His name was Danny. Cass rolled the name around on her tongue, silently trying out out.
It was a good word day, a good day in so many ways, but Cass knew that the excitement of it all could make her tongue trip up. She wanted to get Danny’s name right this first time. Cass knew how much names mattered and she wanted to do the best by her new brother. Danny deserved the best, after everything he had been through.
Her arms were full of things that would hopefully help Danny continue to improve: soft clothing, a weighted blanket, a heat pack stuffed animal, and fresh groceries. Jason met her outside the elevator to help carry it all.
“Hey, Cass,” he said. His exhaustion pulled at his words.
He never tried to hide how tired he was from her, not like he did around the others. Cass knew it was because he knew that she would see past it, but it still felt nice to be the sibling that Jason didn’t mask around. (Dick still thought that he could get away with it.)
“Hello, Jason,” she said and took the opportunity to brush a kiss against his cheek when he leaned in to take the groceries from her.
It made his smile a little softer. “Thanks for bringing this stuff.”
“Of course,” Cass chirped. “Rules?”
“More guidelines,” Jason said. “No sudden or big movements, no loud noises. Metal sounds seem to set him off sometimes, so be careful in the kitchen. Oh, and stay where he can see you, at least at first. We figure we’ll have you over maybe one more time and then put you on rotation with us watching over him.”
“Yes, happy to help,” Cass agreed. She could follow those rules easily, even if they were more guidelines. “You need more rest.”
Jason chuckled dryly. “Yeah I do. That’s part of getting you and then Babs introduced. We’re still keeping someone awake in case he has a night terror or something.”
Cass hummed. Those were never any fun. “Hot chocolate?”
“We’ve got some on the cabinet. I’ll be sure to show you where everything is,” Jason assured her.
“Good. New brother now, please,” Cass said. She rolled her eyes when Jason gave her a look. “Yes, yes. Danny once in the door, not new brother. I know the ‘guidelines’.”
“Brat,” Jason grumbled but in that way that meant ‘I love you’.
It made Cass smile happily as they entered the apartment. She slipped her shoes off inside the door. Like the others, she had dressed in athleisure wear and a domino. She hoped it put their new brother more at ease than her mask would have with the stitched mouth. With the wide eyed way that Danny was watching her with, anything that would help him feel more settled was good.
She gave a little wave and smile. “Hello, Danny. I am Black Bat.”
Danny’s eyes flickered between her and Jason before he pulled one hand away from the tangle of himself him and Dick made to wave at her. “Um, hi Black Bat.”
“I brought things,” she said as she slowly lowered the bags onto the kitchen bar.
Dick perked up. “Ooh, candy?”
“Of course candy.” Cass didn’t bother to hide how she rolled her eyes at that. “But also…”
She tried to keep the noise down as she searched for the right bag. Pulling out the stuffed animal, she spun back around to face Danny and Dick. “For Danny,” she said, the soft, blue, teddy bear held in front of her face.
“Me?”
Cass hummed in confirmation and crept closer to the couch. She crouched down before she was too close, and held out the teddy bear towards Danny. He clearly wanted to reach out, but he held back. He was worried; she understood.
She hate that she did, but she did. She new too well what it was like to have something nice turned into a punishment.
“No tricks,” she assured him. “No payment. No catch. Just because, for you.”
Danny studied her for a long moment before he finally, slowly reached out to touch the teddy bear. When she didn’t pull it back, he took it and buried his face into the fabric.
“It’s soft.”
Cass nodded. “Yes. And yours.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” Cass assured him with a beaming smile. She backed up a little and sat on the floor.
“B.B. here might be looking after you with Hood and I,” Dick said as he let Danny settle back in against him. “But only if you’re alright with it. She’s the best though.”
“Favorite,” Cass said with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said from the open kitchen where he had finished putting away the food. He came up to stand behind her and she leaned back against her legs. “We all love you.”
“Yes.”
Jason snorted at her easily agreement. “Now Danny, do you want your big meal now or a snack now.”
“Do I have to?” Danny asked, softly, before snapping his mouth closed ducking back against Dick.
“Sorry Danny, but yeah,” Dick said. He brushed his fingers through Danny’s hair, but didn’t try to make him move. “Remember what you and Hood talked about this morning?”
The reply was whispered into the new blue bear. “That I have to try at last a few bites each time, even if I’m not hungry.”
“Exactly. But that sounds like to me like a snack might be best right now?” Dick waited for a nod. “Okay. And then a big meal later. Hey, maybe we can play a game to pass the time! It can be you and me against Hood and B.B.”
“Oh you’re going down,” Jason crowed, playing it up just enough to get Danny to peer out from behind the bear at them.
Dick gasped dramatically. “You would beat our dear,” a fraction of a pause where Cass knew Dick wanted to say brother, “esteemed guest? How could you?”
“Hey, alls fair in love and board games, you know that. But we’ll let you and Danny pick the game you want to lose at, won’t we B.B?”
“Only fair,” she agreed with an innocent smile. When Danny eyed her dubiously she couldn’t help but laugh. This new brother would be very fun to have around.
---
AN: This part has needed the very ending for a good bit now and it finally got there! Cass is always so much fun to write, even if she takes me a little to get into the swing with. Danny seems a fan so far too! Now who might he meet next... ^_~
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost.
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azsazz · 7 months
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Midnight Muse
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 1,804
Notes: This is going to be a good one you guys 💙 (yes I know I have a fic titled this already but it’s too good not to reuse, they’re not related btw)
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“I think that’s the last one,” you sigh, setting down a cardboard box labeled Living Room on the stack in the middle of the floor. It’s not heavy—filled with decorative pillows for the cheap futon couch shoved haphazardly against the wall—but the tower of boxes sways precariously and your roommate, Feyre, darts forward to reorganize them from before they all go tumbling down.
You and your roommate had been very organized at the start of your move, putting boxes into piles for which rooms they belonged to, but as the hot sun beamed down and the temperature outside rose, so did your tempers. The process ended with trying to get everything into your new fourth floor apartment as quickly as possible, which was a nearly impossible feat, due to the slow moving elevator.
Feyre sighs, hands on her hips as she surveys the mess of boxes. Neither of you packed lightly—a mistake you’d made the year previous too, and promised not to make again—the both of you refused to hire a moving service, intent on the fact that you could do all the heavy lifting yourselves. 
That definitely had been a mistake.
Panting a little, Feyre shoves the strands of gold-brown hairs clinging to her forehead away, sticky with sweat. The hairs at her nape curl away from her neck, and you’re so glad that she grew out those awful bangs over the summer. Now you don’t have to listen to her complain about how they’d be plastered to her head with sweat. The loose collar of her cropped shirt is damp, and she uses the hem to wipe at the perspiration beading at her hairline. “Fucking finally,” she moans, “I need a drink.”
“Alcoholic or energy?” you tease, but it’s not funny. You’re drained, and all you want to do is collapse on the navy futon that barely fits two, no matter how uncomfortable it is. But you’re hot, clothes irritating your skin from where they’re glued with sweat and your arms and legs burn with effort. A cold shower, tall glass of something icy, and a few hours napping will do you well. A grimace works its way onto your red face, “Tell me there’s air conditioning in this place.”
“Already on,” Feyre sighs, stalking into the kitchen. You follow after her, dodging boxes, and watch as she rips open the refrigerator door and shoves her head inside. It’s completely empty and you wince, knowing that it’s going to be a long weekend while you go shopping and unpack everything before the fall semester starts in a week.
You want to stop by the local art supply too, to gather the last of the material you need for your classes this year. It’s probably why you and Feyre have so many boxes; half of the ones adorning your apartment are stuffed with art supplies: brushes and paints of all varieties from oils to acrylics, graphite pencils and kneaded erasers, canvases both blank and filled. You swear there’s even an entire box dedicated to sketchbooks filled with random doodles and scribbled ideas for assignments that never turned into anything great. Feyre hadn’t been happy when she’d seen you’d left that box for her to carry up.
When Feyre’s had her fill of the crisp air, she hands you a bottle of water from the freezer. It’s nowhere near as cold as you’d like it yet. You’d run into the gas station to get a few bottles and candy bars while she filled up the tank of the U-Haul for your last stretch or the drive. It hadn’t occurred to either of you to grab something with more sustenance until this very moment.
“Ugh,” you groan, choking down the room-temperature water. It helps a little to soothe your parched throat, but nowhere near enough. “Do you have any money left in your account? We should Door Dash something for dinner, and call it an early night.”
“An early night?” Feyre retorts, making a face as she takes a sip of her own water. “We have a lot of unpacking to do. And our beds aren’t even set up yet.” 
“Fuck us,” you sigh, leaning against the marble. The stone is cool where it seeps through your thin shirt, and you ache to rip off your clothing and press your burning skin to it in an attempt to cool yourself off. “Let’s just find the boxes with the pillows and blankets and sleep in the living room, Fey. C’mon, it’ll be like when we were young again! Except now we’re old enough to buy alcohol.” You waggle your eyebrows at your roommate and she cracks a wry grin. “Well, almost old enough, but those fake ID’s Tarquin got us work like a charm anyway.”
“Fine,” Feyre relents, “Dibs on first shower, though.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
While Feyre uses all of the hot water, despite it being nearly ninety degrees outside—blasphemous for the end of August in the middle of Southern California—you take the chance to move the U-Haul from where you’d double-parked it outside of your new apartment building. Thankfully, you and Feyre had saved up enough money from working at an Art Camp for children this summer to have both of your cars shipped to school. It was cheaper to rent a truck and move all of your belongings yourselves than to drive down and let a moving company do it, plus, you and Feyre had wanted to road trip this summer but didn’t have the funds. You both had decided there was no better time for it—until you could properly afford one—than this.
You scroll aimlessly through your social media on the way down, the elevator so slow and creaky that you and Feyre opted to take the stairs for most of your journey. Bigger things like your beds, the futon, and the tv had been squashed into the tiny elevator and taken up with prayers it wouldn’t break down. You can’t help but glance up at the certificate that says the elevator is in running order until its next inspection in two years. 
“Is that forged, George Brown?” you mutter, squinting at the paper displayed in the corner. It’s frayed at the edges and yellowing, so you’re not all that sure this elevator has been inspected when it says it has.
It comes to a jerky halt that makes you sway when it hits the lobby. It’s as nice a building as you can afford on your budget, but the both of you will have to find part-time jobs as soon as school starts up, so that you have money to buy alcohol and food and supplies. Feyre’s older sister, Nesta, had lived here with her friends Gwyn and Emerie during their undergrad years, but they’ve moved on from shitty apartment buildings riddled with horny college students to renting a quaint house in town while working on their masters degrees.
When the doors to the elevator slide open you slip out as fast as possible, a shudder working its way up your spine. You wonder how many times it’s broken down, and you’d hate to be in there alone if something like that happened. Maybe you’ll take the stairs from now on unless you’re with someone.
The lobby of the building is small. There’s a front desk in which no one ever sits, as if the building used to be sophisticated once upon a time and a doorman used to occupy the space. Mailboxes pinned to the wall line the area behind the counter, and there sits a garbage can stuffed full with envelopes and more likely than not empty bottles of alcohol and take-away, maybe even a used condom or two.
It’s muggy down here, more so than your apartment that the landlord hadn’t turned on the air conditioning when he knew you’d be showing up today. Whatever, you hadn’t had to see the greasy man, he’d left the keys on the counter for you and Feyre to find when you’d arrived, and you were more than thankful for that.
You brush away some of the hairs that have come loose from your ponytail as you cross the lobby. The hazards of the U-Haul are blinking at a steady rate, the skies turning darker with the looming night. It had taken you and Feyre all day to unpack the truck, and you’re returning it tomorrow when your cars come in, so you need to move it to a normal spot for the night. 
Pushing open the door, your steps falter as someone brushes past you like a shadow, nearly hitting your shoulder with theirs. Your brows furrow and you turn to toss a comment about how rude they are but the words dry up in your throat. 
He’s tugging off a motorcycle helmet and you can’t help but watch the way his biceps bulge against his skin tight black t-shirt. The muscles of his broad back glide like butter beneath the fabric as he moves and you can’t help but let your gaze travel down his spine to his tight waist, dipping into dark jeans.
His thick soled boots thump loudly as he stalks through the door, stopping at the mailboxes to check if he has any letters. The tiny door opens with a squeak that has you snapping back into your body, stunned by his musculature. This man is a god of his own league. A masterpiece of perfectly crafted body parts and tones. He has an angular nose and long, dark lashes matching his disheveled hair. He runs his fingers through it and shoves the helmet under his armpit as he digs through his mailbox. Your fingers twitch to dig out your sketchbook and pencils from the box upstairs.
You force your gaze outside again, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. You were straight up ogling the man, and thankfully you’re not drooling, as you take notice while you wet your suddenly dry lips. 
You click the keys, unlocking the U-Haul, but stop short when you see that the truck is caged in, a big vintage Bronco parked behind, and a shiny motorcycle that looks like it moves faster than the speed of light wedged between the moving truck and the vehicle in front.
“Hey,” you call, ripping the door back open to the lobby. You have no doubt that the motorcycle is his, and the car behind had been there when you and Feyre had arrived this afternoon, so you don’t know whom it belongs to. “Is this your motorcycle?” 
The man is already on his way to the elevator, phone stable in his leather riding gloves as he swipes, envelopes tucked into his helmet. The elevator door screeches open and he doesn’t even bother to turn around and meet your gaze as he punches the button to his floor. “Nope.”
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spiralsdrop · 3 months
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This is a hypnosis story I've always loved:
“My friends and I were at a bar across town. It was dark, a little loud, underground, with dim red lights and drinks that cost too much. But there were lots of plush little booths and we managed to snag ourselves a corner, so we sat and got deep into drinking and chatting.
After an hour or so, there was a big commotion going on in one corner with people falling around laughing. Before we saw what was going on, everyone involved had stumbled away hooting and giggling. But my friend Rachel leads me over and there’s this young guy kind of holding court.
“What’s going on?” Rachel asks, over the music.
“Oh, I’m hypnotising people,” he says, casually, like people do that all the time.
“For real? You’re a hypnotist?”
“Yes I am,” he says.
Rachel thinks this is hysterical. I think it sounds ridiculous.
“We should dooooooo this!” she says, waving over the two other friends we’re out with.
“Should we?”
“We should! YOU should.”
“I don’t think so,” I say, but she’s already tugging on this guy’s arm… and pushing me towards him.
“Hypnotise Emma!”
“Yeah?”
“She REALLY wants to!”
He looks at me.
“Do you want to?”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure I’m un-hypnotisable.”
“Well,” he says. “Wanna find out?”
“You can try,” I say. I’m smirking a little bit. Silly me.
“Well, OK then. Here, take a seat.”
Like I said, I thought it was ridiculous.
There are two small wooden chairs facing each other and I sit in one. I smooth down the short, tight little dress I’m wearing. He – neat grey t-shirt, jeans, a tattoo of swirling black lines, like a soundwave, on one arm, a mischievous sparkle in his deep brown eyes, like someone who’s just had a sinfully good idea – sits on the other one, pulls it closer so our knees are almost touching. I’m a little nervous… but determined not to let it show.
“OK,” he says. He takes my arms and places them on the arm of my chair, palms up. He holds my hands with his and gives them a reassuring squeeze.
“You OK?”
“I’m fine.”
“This is going to be fun, OK?”
“Well, if you say so.”
Three of my friends are now gathered watching us. I hear Rachel say “I bet she thinks she’s a chicken five minutes from now.”
He lets go of my hands and wraps his gently around my wrists, his thumb on each, like he’s taking my pulse. He starts talking to me low and urgently, looking into my eyes warmly.
“So what’s your name?”
“Emma.”
“Where are we?”
“A bar.”
“What colour are the lights here?”
“Red.”
“Only red?”
“Some white.”
“What’s your name again?”
“Emma.”
”OK, Emma. We’re good.”
His thumbs are tracing circles on my skin.
His questions became… rhetorical. Think of my feet on the floor. Were they heavy? Did it feel good to just rest them there? Doesn’t it feel warm? Isn’t the chair comfortable?
It did feel comfortable. It felt like the second when an elevator stops descending and you’re that little bit heavier. I felt warm like sinking into a fresh bath. He put his hand on my bare shoulder. It felt solid and good.
Didn’t I feel calm? Isn’t it nice? Try closing my eyes. Keep listening to his voice. Even raised over the music is voice, is like a heavy blanket on a lazy Sunday. His hand slides to rest under my hair, on the back of my neck. Weren’t my wrists relaxed? Like they could rest on the arms of the chair forever. His other hand taps out a rhythm on my knee. Calm like warm sunshine on my skin. The sounds around me drift off into a dull hubbub. This was more relaxing than I th…
…I open my eyes and time has jumped just a little. Maybe it’s a few seconds later – or a few minutes? Which was weird. But it can’t have been long. My friends were all still there. And I still felt good. Calm. Nice. The rest of the world feels a little muffled, like the air is thicker.
“All awake, Emma?”
I nod.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel… fine.”
“That’s good.”
He rested his fingertips on my wrists and… oh.
“How does that feel?”
For some reason, it felt SO good. It was like one of those feelings that ran all through your body, like the feeling I get when my neck is being kissed, or my nipples are teased, or having ‘good girl’ growled quietly in my ear.
“It feels good,” I murmured. I was still sort of sleepy.
His fingertips started running slowly up and down my wrists, from my up-turned palms to the crook of my elbow. It was like the sexiest teasing I’d ever felt. Tingles rushed up to my shoulders and through my chest. I could feel my nipples getting hard under my dress.
“Do you like the way it feels?”
I nodded. The tingling was spreading through my tummy and between my legs. I was calm and floaty and burningly turned on all at once. He pulled his hands away. I bit my lip in frustration.
“More?”
“Yeah.”
He picked up his chair and moved it. I felt him sit down behind me. He leaned in close and whispered “Close your eyes…” into my ear. I did what I was told.
The moment his hands touched my back I gasped like lightning ran down my spine to my crotch. Every tiny hair on my neck stood up in reaction to his touch.
“Fuck.”
Each stroke of my shoulder blades felt like being stroked… everywhere, all at once. My clit was getting harder and more sensitive with each rub. My underwear felt hot and wet. I could barely control my breathing.
His hands slid over my shoulders and teasingly over my upper arms. It was like ecstasy. Just the fabric of my underwear against my clit was delicious. I slid my ass against the wooden chair instinctively trying to find some friction or relief. As he blew gently on the back of my neck I leaned back and spread my legs in the confused hope of being touched. I fucking ached with pleasure.
“It’s such a strong feeling,” he murmured in my ear, “when you think about it.”
He pulled his hands away once again. My heart was thudding in my chest, my nipples were hard through the fabric of my dress which had ridden up from my accidental grinding against the seat. Even with my eyes closed, I looked like a hot mess but I was so turned on I was beyond caring. I was just glad the club was so dark.
He puts brought his chair around to my side and just in front, so it was perpendicular to me. He sits in, close.
“How are you feeling?”
I open my eyes. I’m dimly aware of the giggling of my friends, and the gaze of some other onlookers over me. I feel a wave of heat as my face reddens.
“Don’t worry about them,” he says. “Look at me.”
“This is crazy,” I mouthed.
”I told you it would be fun.”
I’m speechless.
“Keep going?”
I was nodding before I even thought about it.
He scoots in front of me a little more. “Put your leg on my lap, Emma.” I lift my bare leg and place it tentatively across his knees.
His hand rests on my knee and a jolt of pleasure hit me. It snakes up my thigh to my wet cunt and fizzles deep me, my hips twitching. To my embarrassment I let out a moan of pure pleasure.
His fingertips are stroking my skin in soft, little circles. My thighs are starting to shake. Laughter among the crowd sends me blushing. He shakes his head in their direction and then looks at me.
“Emma, look at me.”
His twinkling eyes lock mine.
“You’ve been doing really well. Don’t worry about them. Listen to my voice.”
I nod in breathless agreement. His fingertips start drumming slowly on top of my thigh, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two three..
It feels like a fluttering feeling inside me and I scrunch my eyes closed in delight. I squirm in my seat, squeezing my thighs together tightly just for a hint of pressure on my clit.
“Emma, look at me.”
“You’ve been doing really well. I know it feels intense. It feels so strong…”
I’m trembling with each quickening tap. One-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three-one-two-three…
“It’s getting stronger and stronger, Emma. Like you can’t hold back.”
The drumming moves imperceptibly up my thigh, to the edge of my dress and it feels 100 times stronger. I’m arching my back. My hands grip the arm of the chair like they’re my bedsheets when I’m touching myself. I’m so close…
“Emma, listen to me.”
“Oh my god.”
“Emma, listen.”
“I’m… please… I…”
“Let go.”
With those two words the orgasm hits me like an explosion, my thighs clamping together, the contractions in my cunt are so strong I bend double in my chair.
“Let go.”
It feels like I’m being fucked hard and deep while I cum, my g-spot is spasming with pleasure. I cry out helplessly.
“Let go.”
His hand gripping my thigh sends another orgasm shivering through my clit and then bursting inside of me. I feel a hot flood of wetness soak through my panties as I involuntarily squirt a little.
“Let go.”
I slump back in the chair as my hips jolt into the air. I can hear my friends shrieking with laughter as they watch me orgasm uncontrollably. I try to hold back but I can’t stop cumming. Each squeeze of my thigh sends another wave of powerful juddering contractions through my pussy, makes me moan, twitch, gush, gasp, grind, shake, cum.
I’ve never cum for so long.
“OK, you. Come here.”
He takes my leg off his lap and comes in close to me. He wraps his hand on my neck and pulls me toward him, my forehead resting on my shoulder, exhausted and trembling. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “Listen to my voice…”
I sink back into a calm darkness.
A few moments later I wake up, sheepish and embarrassed… but even so, I can’t stop grinning. He strokes my wrist one last time – no unbearable pleasure, this time – and smiles. I tentatively stand up, and my legs are like jelly. Rebecca grabs me incredulously and says “OH. MY. GOD.”
“I. KNOW.”
I tell her I have to excuse myself to use the bathroom and shakily stumble in that direction. It’s busy with girls streaming in and out, but in the mirror, I see my face and chest are flushed pink. And my hair’s a mess.
I shut myself in the cool dark cubicle and slide off my panties, down my ankles and over my shoes and step out of them. They’re so drenched from my cum I throw them in the trash can. I instinctively reach between my legs and fuck, I’m still so wet and sensitive. I lean back against the cubicle door and let my fingertips find my slick, hard, throbbing clit. It feel so good to finally feel the touch my body had been craving.
Around me were the sounds of doors opening and closing, girls talking, water running, the throbbing music from next door and the hand-dryer blowing.
I was so hungry to feel full inside and I greedily pushed two fingers deep inside, sliding in deliciously easily. My knees buckled with satisfaction as I slowly, quietly fucked myself. Each time the hand dryer switched on, I pumped my fingers in and out hard and fast, the noise of the motor covering the sounds of my wetness, until it stopped and I had to wait for more agonising seconds.
When I couldn’t take it any more, with one last blast of the hand dryer, I frantically rubbed my clit, my other hand grabbing my tit, and then those commanding words “Let go… let go… let go…” suddenly reverberating in my head, until, my hand clamped over my mouth, I came for the second time that night, my legs buckling in shock, sliding down the cubicle door until I was sat on my heels, waves of pleasure still shuddering through my thighs.
I sat on the toilet for a few minutes and straightened myself out, until the red flush of orgasm had faded from my chest. Then I went back out to join my friends… embarrassed, sans underwear but oh-so-satisfied.
And when I’m alone, the words ‘let go…’ can still push me over the edge sometimes :)”
I would love to give proper credit to this author. If any of you know who wrote this please let me know so I can tag them and give them the credit they deserve.
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macfrog · 11 months
Text
you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one
requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)
lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️
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pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)
word count: 7.8k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”
It’s Friday night.
You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.
It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.
Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.
Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.
“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.
“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”
“He won’t be pissed at you?”
“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”
She shrugs, agreeing.
“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”
Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.
It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.
It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.
“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”
You lean back, bored expression on your face.
Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.
“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”
He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.
“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”
He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”
“Don’t wanna.”
“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”
“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”
His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.
“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”
Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.
Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.
“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”
“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.
Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.
His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.
He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.
You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.
But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.
Probably not a coincidence.
Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.
His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.
“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.
You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?
Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.
Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.
Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.
Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.
“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.
You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.
Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”
“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.
“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”
It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.
“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.
“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”
“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”
“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”
You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.
You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.
“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.
“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.
He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”
“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.
“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”
Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”
“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”
“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.
Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.
“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”
“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”
You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.
Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.
He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.
His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.
Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.
“I hate work parties,” you sigh.
Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”
You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.
“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”
Baby. This fucker.
“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.
He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”
He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?
Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.
You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?
You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.
Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.
Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.
“What?”
She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”
They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.
You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.
“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.
“Huh?”
“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”
“Why is everyone heading across the street?”
He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”
“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.
“I know. I throw a good party, right?”
“So good, people are leaving it.”
He tuts. “Coat. Now.”
“I didn’t bring one.”
“You didn’t bring a coat?”
“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”
“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”
He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.
“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”
“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”
He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.
“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.
He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.
His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.
One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.
You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.
“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”
“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.
“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”
You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”
You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.
You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.
No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.
You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.
The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.
Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.
A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.
The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.
“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?
You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.
It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.
His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.
Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.
“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”
“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.
You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”
He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”
You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.
Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.
“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.
“Really?”
“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.
He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”
“Dick.”
“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”
“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”
You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.
“Change, please.”
“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”
“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”
He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.
Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”
“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.
He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.
You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.
I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.
As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.
She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.
“Where you goin’?” he asks.
“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.
Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”
“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”
“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”
Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.
“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”
You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?
Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.
That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.
They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.
“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.
“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.
You nod. “You?”
“Mhm.”
His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.
You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.
The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.
“Sorry,” you mutter.
He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.
“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”
The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.
You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.
You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.
“You okay?” he asks.
You nod lazily. “Tired.”
Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.
It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.
“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”
“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.
“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”
You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”
“Be safe, baby.”
“You be safe, too. Bye.”
You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.
You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.
All. Fucking. Weekend.
In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.
In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.
Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.
It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…
No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.
It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?
And is your cunt beginning to throb again?
You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.
“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.
“Huh?”
“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”
“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”
“Yup.”
“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”
“Cool, thanks.”
You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.
Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.
“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”
“Anything good?”
He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.
“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.
You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.
“That bad, huh?”
“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”
He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”
Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.
He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.
“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.
“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”
His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.
“Good job, baby.”
You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.
You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.
“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”
“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”
You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”
“That can wait until after.”
“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”
He steps forward. Your heart stutters.
“You’ll be in here with me.”
You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”
“I need you in here. To take–”
“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”
He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.
“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”
Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.
Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.
You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.
Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.
“Makes for a nice view, too.”
You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.
Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”
Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.
Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.
Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.
“Will you fucking quit it?”
“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.
You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”
“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”
You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.
“My mistake.”
You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.
“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”
“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”
“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”
Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.
“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.
You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.
For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.
You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.
He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.
His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.
It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.
You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.
You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.
“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”
“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”
Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.
You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”
Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.
“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”
“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.
He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.
“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”
And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.
“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.
“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.
The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.
It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.
Joel feels you, knows you’re close.
“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”
“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”
“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”
That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.
You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.
There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.
He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.
You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.
His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.
“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.
He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.
“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”
“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.
“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”
“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.
He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.
You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.
A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.
You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.
The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.
“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”
You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”
This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.
Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.
Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.
You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.
“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.
You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.
“My m-mouth.”
“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.
It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.
On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.
With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.
He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.
“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”
You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.
Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.
“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.
Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”
He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.
His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.
Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.
When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.
“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”
He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.
He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.
----------
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sweetblinginrose · 30 days
Text
𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖑 ,
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(OS Eddie Munson x reader)
summary: You catch Eddie red-handed.
word count: 3k +
warnings: +18, friends to lovers, caught jerking off, handjob, oral (m receives), cum in mouth, all this in a hospital.
a/n: hi! so, im dropping this one-shot without pronouns so everyone can vibe with it. just a random idea i had, nothing too crazy
masterlist
━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━
Eddie was lying on the hospital stretcher, his face reflecting a mixture of satisfaction, annoyance and relief. "Mmhmm, fuck, yeah, right there..." he sighed, while a slight tremor ran through his closed eyelids. His toes curved involuntarily, reacting to the feeling he had longed for. His long hair, usually tied in a bun given to the summer heat, had come loose and now it fell disorderly on his forehead, dark strands stuck to his skin by sweat.
There you were, his unconditional, only person he trusted to carry out this delicate mission. With the precision of a surgeon, you had inserted one of his forks into the narrow opening of the plaster that imprisoned his hand. You moved the fork carefully, gently scratching the palm that had been for weeks without feeling the slightest touch. Eddie twisted slightly every time the fork touched a new point on his palm, sending a wave of relief through his immobilized arm. "There, there... That's it!" He exclaimed whimpering with satisfaction more deeply, every time you manage to calm that unattainable itching that tormented him so much. The room was silent, except for Eddie's occasional moans of comfort and the soft rubbing of metal against plaster. It was an intimate moment, not because of their nature, but because of the trust and connection they shared. Finally, after several minutes that seemed eternal to Eddie, he sighed deeply, a sign that you had completed your task. "Fuck...," he murmured, gratitude shining in his eyes when he opened them and met yours. "I don't know what I would do without you."
The night Eddie was injured was one of those occasions that would be remembered not because of the music, but because of the chaos that followed. Corroded Coffin, your band, had gotten a concert in a biker bar on the outskirts of the city, a place known for its rude clientele and unbridled atmosphere. The band was excited, especially Eddie, who always sought to push things to the limit. The place was small and the stage barely an elevation above the ground, only a little higher than the shoulders of an average man. Your battery occupied most of the space, leaving little room for the rest of the members. The crowd that night was scarce; less than fifteen souls gathered near the stage, lost in their own conversations and drinks. Eddie, under the influence of substances that promised a night without inhibitions, decided that it would be a good idea to try to surf over the crowd. In an impulse, he threw himself into the void, hoping to be held by the hands of the spectators. But the audience, taken by surprise, dispersed quickly, leaving a void where Eddie hoped to find support. He fell heavily, his right arm hitting the ground first. The sound of something breaking was almost as loud as the music. In a desperate attempt to cushion the fall, he extended his other hand, the left, which was still holding the microphone. His fingers were crushed between the metal and the ground, and a sharp pain ran through his body. Eddie's screams were mixed with the music as the audience, now aware of the situation, approached to help. The show stopped abruptly, and the confusion took over the place. Gareth jumped off the stage, followed by the rest of the band, as they tried to understand the severity of Eddie's injuries. Eddie's right arm was clearly broken, hanging at an unnatural angle, and his left fingers were swollen and deformed. The night ended not with applause, but with sirens, while an ambulance arrived to take Eddie to the nearest hospital.
The recovery would be long and tedious. Eddie would have to learn to do things with his non-dominant hand and endure the pain and frustration of not being able to play his guitar, and something more than this. The plaster in his dominant hand drastically limited his mobility, while the bandage in the other imposed additional restrictions on him. Every daily task became a titanic task, from tying your shoes to reaching for a glass on the highest shelf. Frustration and pain were constant companions in his day to day, and the inability to play his beloved guitar only intensified his despair. The night was particularly difficult for Eddie. Accustomed to releasing his sexual tension through masturbation, he was now deprived of this relief. His excitement was palpable, a constant reminder of his unmet need. In his mind, he relived past moments of solitary pleasure, now unattainable due to his condition.
In the midst of his anguish, he turned to you, his lifelong friend. You did all the tasks he couldn't do, except the most important, at least for him.
Although he had always seen you as a loyal partner, now he was beginning to notice a different spark in your presence. He remembered the nights in the pub, when the music enveloped the room and your presence was as comforting as it was stimulating. In those moments, he saw you with new eyes, a vision that was now intensified with his frustration and repressed sexual need. Your presence, and the minimal visualization of your collarbone through that t-shirt, only served to kindle the fire of his desire. Every adjustment in the bandage or every accidental contact caused a wave of forbidden sensations. Eddie was in a state of constant excitement, his body longing for liberation and satisfaction, and those noises were not of relief, but also of pleasure.
Eddie's cock was beating with an almost painful urgency, trapped between his thighs, anxious to be released. However, she was trapped under the thin sheets of the hospital, and the idea of being discovered in that state was too embarrassing to contemplate.
While the nurses completed their last night care, giving him medication and making sure everything was in order, Eddie got impatient. Although he wanted to be discharged, he knew it was not yet the right time. Possibly his recovery was delayed due to unexpected complications or the need for more medical tests to ensure his full recovery.
You decided to say goodbye to Munson and leave the room, since you had to prepare for the next day's classes. With a slight touch on his arm you said goodbye, and as you walked away, Eddie couldn't help but admire your movements, watching your uncovered legs move.
When you finally left, Eddie strongly separated his thighs, releasing his cock that was full of weeks of accumulated desire. The burning need for satisfaction consumed him, but with his dominant hand immobilized, he knew that he could not resort to his usual methods. However, instead of surrendering to frustration, he began to devise a plan to find relief from his sexual urgency.
The whisper of the sheets when touching each other filled the room, accompanied by the soft buzz of the lights in the hallway that filtered through the ajar door. Eddie twisted in bed, struggling to free himself from the oppression of his underpants without risking bending his non-dominant hand and causing more pain. Every move was a challenge, and sweat beaded his forehead as he strove to reach his goal. "Fuck, c’mon..." he murmured in a barely audible whisper, aware that the elderly patient next to him, separated with a sheet carefully arranged by his wife, was soundly asleep. The roommate's advanced age gave him some confidence, knowing that he probably wouldn't realize if Munson decided to look for a little pleasure in the middle of the night.
With trembling movements, Eddie finally managed to lower his underpants, releasing his throbbing erection. The temptation was overwhelming, and although he knew that it was not the right time or place, the urgency of his sexual need pushed him forward. His cock stood up with a sober and natural majesty. Its size, although not exaggerated, exhibited a perfect proportion, promising satisfaction without being intimidating. The skin that wrapped it was smooth and soft to the touch, with a slightly velvety texture that invited contact. The blue and prominent veins meandered along their length, highlighting their vascularity and suggesting a latent potency. Each vein seemed to pulsate with a life of its own, marking the rhythm of its pulse and the urgency of its desire. The thickness of its member was remarkable, filling the hand with a comforting firmness. However, its form was not only physical, but also aesthetic. A soft curve adorned its contour, adding a natural elegance to its appearance. Each strand of hair seemed to delicately caress the skin, adding a feeling of texture and depth to its appearance.
You had gone out the door, the sound of your steps was fading in the hallway. But then, a twinge of oblivion stopped you; you had left your glasses. You turned on your steps, opened the door without making any noise, carefully sliding the sheet, and there was Munson, struggling with his cock, trying to reach that unreachable point with his hand. You stood still, observing. An accomplice silence spread between you, only interrupted by the slight rubbing of his fingers against the thin skin that covered his entire cock.
You were frozen in the room, watching the scene with a mixture of surprise and fascination. Eddie's cock was just as you had imagined it, but seeing it in that state, struggling with the need for satisfaction, caused a heat to start forming in your pants. Your cheeks blushed at the intensity of the moment, feeling trapped between shame and a growing excitement.
He, oblivious to your presence at first, seemed to be trapped in his own world of despair and desire. With clumsy movements and limited by his injury, he was looking for a way out of his sexual torment. That's when he had the great idea of turning his body slightly and rubbing against the mattress, simulating the movement of a sexual relationship. His movements were cautious at first, but soon they became more fluid and rhythmic. His eyes were closed, lost in the feeling of self-induced pleasure, while you watched the scene with a mixture of fascination and bewilderment. "Mmhmm..." he moaned, so you felt as if some butterflies were hitting your stomach hard. It seemed as if they were eating you inside. You were completely hot, but you decided to intervene, since it didn't seem appropriate to be observing Eddie at a time like this.
"Edd...?" You whispered, capturing all his attention. At that moment, shame completely invaded you. You were totally embarrassed, even more than him. You felt as if you had invaded his privacy, as if you were witnessing something intimate and personal that I should never have seen.
When Eddie finally listened to you, his reaction was instant and tumultuous. He was completely startled, his body tense and his eyes wide open in a gesture of panic. He began to randomly insult out loud, a cascade of curses that filled the room and made you jump in surprise. "Shit! Fuck! What are you doing here?!" Eddie shouted, his voice full of shame and despair. He clung to the nearest sheet, trying to cover himself, but when he bent his hand he hurt himself, and a deep moan of pain escaped from his lips. The situation became more and more tense when you noticed that the old man in the bed next door began to frown, a sign that he could wake up at any moment. Without thinking twice, you rushed to where Eddie was, tightly covering his thick lips with your hand and staring at his round eyes, trying to convey the urgency of the situation with your gaze.
When you approached Eddie, with the urgency of the palpable situation in the air, you felt how his cock, through the sheet, was in contact with your side. A shudder ran through your body as she perceived the heat emanating from it, like a burning ember that burned the skin and stoked the flame of excitement. Everything in you began to tremble, from your hands to your legs that barely held your weight. You felt like a flan, on the verge of collapse, at any moment you could collapse me in the face of the intensity of the situation.
"What are you doing, idiot?" You asked whispering, your voice just a murmur full of annoyance and shame. Your eyes were desperately looking for theirs, looking for some answer or sign of repentance in their gaze. "Why you beating your meat in a hospital, asshole?" You kept whispering, your tone of voice mixed frustration and worry. Even covering his lips firmly, you hoped that your words would make him reflect on the seriousness of his behavior and the need to contain himself in a place as inappropriate as that.
With his left hand, Eddie pushed yours away, finally allowing him to breathe normally, although his face was totally reddened by shame. "I haven't come or jerked off for a month, so don't question what I do or where," he also whispered in defense, his altered tone revealed his overexcitement and the urgency of his unmet need.
His words hit you hard, reminding you of the internal struggle he was facing. "And what?! You should go to the bathroom!" You answered him, your voice equally whispering but full of frustration, gesticulating forcefully near him to emphasize your point.
"I can't! That's why I'm doing it here!" Eddie exclaimed, his despair palpable in every word.
"What do you mean you can't?" You asked, trying to understand the situation while you struggled to contain your own confusion and dismay.
"Well, I can't jerk off, that's what happens! I need to cum," Eddie explained, his voice full of anguish and shame. The vulnerability of his confession resonated in the air, exposing the depth of his need and his inability to satisfy it in a conventional way.
You were silent, observing Munson's expression under the slight reflection that emanated from the moon. You were very hot for seeing him that way, so vulnerable, that you didn't think about what you said. "And... do you need help?" You murmured, letting the words escape from your lips without thinking about the consequences. As soon as you said that, Eddie's expression changed completely. Now he was pale, his eyes opened like plates, revealing a mixture of surprise and anxiety. However, you noticed how his cock moved slightly in response to your question, a non-verbal sign that your offer had been received with interest and excitement.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room while you looked at each other, each processing the situation differently.
"What exactly do you mean?" Eddie asked with a crooked smile, still unsure of his point.
"You would do the same for me, wouldn't you? Although I don't think I'll ever get to such a... perverted state of despair," you said laughing, feeling how the tension dissipated and a sexual warmth filled the room. Eddie settled down, crossing his arms over his chest and resting his back against the head of the bed. "You're the pervert, I don't know how long you'd been watching me," he replied with a mocking smile. "But yes, I know you would do the same for me. That's what friends do, isn't it?" He joked, noticing how his cock was begging for it to be uncovered and touched.
After that exchange of glances full of complicity, a tense silence took over the room, as if you were both weighing the meaning of what had just happened. You decided to break the silence by placing your ass on the bed, staring at Eddie with determination. You began to lower the sheet that covered him up to his chest, revealing what you both wanted so much. The excitement invaded you even more when you saw his body vulnerable and exposed to you. Your best friend was defenseless, and he couldn't do anything to stop you, which gave you a feeling of power and freedom to explore. The fact of being in a hospital, sharing a room, added an element of risk and emotion to the situation. You were in a semi-public place, which intensified the feeling of the forbidden and excitingness of your meeting.
Munson breathed with difficulty, his half-open lips let out his choppy breath, while the slight movements of his cock gently hit his abdomen, setting the rhythm of his desire. You decided to stop that by grabbing his erection, noticing how hot and wet it was. A shiver ran down your back when you felt its heat throbbing between your fingers, increasing your own excitement and anticipation for what was to come.
After starting gently, your movements became more energetic and determined. With your hand in his mouth to put out any noise, you began to pump even harder on his erection. Each onslaught was greeted with a drowned moan on his part, his hips were looking for more depth, and you gave it to him without hesitation.
The tension in the room was palpable, every sigh and every moan was proof of the unbridled passion you shared. Suddenly, without warning, you took your mouth towards his cock, staring into his eyes as your tongue began to draw circles around his member. Eddie's eyes rolled backwards in ecstasy, his hips moved with difficulty, responding to the expert movements of your tongue. Each lick was received with a deep and guttural moan on his part, his voice vibrated against your fingers as he struggled to contain the overwhelming pleasure that invaded him.
And suddenly, without warning, you felt his body tense, how his voice vibrated against your fingers, and how his warm and sticky liquid soaked your cheeks inside, filling your mouth with its unique and delicious flavor. A moan escaped from your lips in response, an echo of his pleasure that mixed with yours in the air full of desire. “Uhh… fuck, yes…”
Taking his member out of your mouth gracefully, you looked at him with a naughty smile. "I thought you were going to hold on longer..." you joked, before swallowing everything that Eddie had expelled for his cock.
"I told you that I hadn't cum for almost a month..." Eddie stressed with a smile, running his thumb over your lips, picking up some of his remains. With a seductive gesture, you brought his thumb to your mouth, allowing it to enter slightly, savoring the sweet taste of its essence.
486 notes · View notes
mitsuyeaah · 1 year
Text
DEVIL IN DISGUISE
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SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader
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“he lies, he bluffs, he’s unpredictable. he is a sucker with a gun, a bad boy with a tainted heart, a villain by the devil’s law.”
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cw: sugar daddy!sanzu, law student!reader, nsfw (mdni), smut, implied age gap (late twenties sanzu, early twenties reader), bdsm (gunplay, restraint, blindfold), rough unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibitionism, oral (m & f receiving, cum swallowing), alcohol use (brief), mentions of smoking, mentions of drug use, swearing, pet names (pretty girl, princess, baby), degradation
word count: 11k
a/n: my piece for The #SugarDaddyCollab event by @sleepysnk !! © divider: anlian-aishang
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The loud bass of the music reverberated throughout your body, the bouncing strobe lights of the dimly lit club making it hard to navigate through, especially with the sea of sweaty bodies grinding against each other.
You adjusted the black masquerade mask that rested on your nose that partially hid the top part of your face—except your eyes—before reaching for the tray full of alcoholic beverages that were in various interesting colours.
“Oh, I’ll take those. Manager told me she wanted you to specifically serve a private VIP room today, the Golden Room. Quickly! You have to be there before our clients.” Your co-worker swiftly took the tray full of drinks, ushering you away before hastily leaving, her short figure blending in amongst the crowd of people until she was nowhere to be seen.
The Golden Room. It was the most expensive private VIP room that the club had to offer as it had its own floor at the very top of the building, overlooking the bustling nightlife of Roppongi. The private room had its exclusive DJ and mini-bar that catered to the client’s needs—and only their needs—along with a personal server, which was you for tonight.
For the past few months that you’ve been working at this club, you have never been asked to serve one of the private VIP rooms, let alone the most expensive one. You were always down at the main floor serving drinks, blending in with the huge crowd that never seemed to die down, even at early hours of the morning.
Trying to make yourself presentable, you hastily made your way to the main elevators to get to the top floor. In all honesty, you were quite nervous about this, not only was it your first time being a personal server, but it was also because you knew that the clients had money, a lot of money, so you couldn’t afford to be fucking up your job any time soon.
After passing all the other floors in the building, the elevator dinged and its doors slid open to reveal an exquisite room, as expected. You finally knew why it was called the Golden Room, this private space had accents of gold everywhere, from the chandelier down to its marbled floor, it also housed a spacious balcony that overlooked the teeming city down below, this section of the club was so high up that you swore you could almost reach the dark clouds above.
Thankfully, the said clients still weren’t there which gave you ample amounts of time to calm yourself down and be at your best behaviour, you couldn’t afford to lose this job due to a simple mistake.
There were only three people in the room at the moment, you, the bartender who already worked on drinks, and the DJ who was busy fiddling with his controllers, music already coming out of the speakers.
You stood by the mini-bar, waiting for the patrons to walk in so you could warmly welcome them.
The elevator door dinged, revealing a lone man standing inside it. He was fairly tall, rosy pink hair that ended in a long mullet, noticeable scars on either corners of his lips, and deep turquoise eyes that complimented his prominent thick lashes.
The man strutted in, sporting a striped navy blue three-piece suit and a white button up, your eyes followed him as he sat in the middle of the long leather couch that rested against the wall, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on the backrest, his aquamarine gaze already on you.
That’s it? That’s our client? Just him? Questions ran through your mind as no other person walked out from the elevator, just the pink-haired man, all alone.
You realised he must’ve had a shit ton of money to be booking the most extravagant room that this club had to offer, all for himself. Goddamn, rich people really are something else, you thought.
It was awkward.
The pink-haired man stared at you and didn’t even bother hiding it, you felt small under his intense gaze, also making you conscious about the black strapless latex top you were wearing. You shifted uncomfortably, he was still staring at you but that was when you remembered you completely forgot to greet him.
Oh shit. You were too distracted admiring the patron.
Your eyes widened a bit at the realisation, embarrassment slowly engulfing your body as you tried to take long confident strides toward the man, black thigh high boots clicking against the gold-accented marbled floor with every step you took. You plastered a warm smile, standing in front of the patron before introducing yourself and warmly welcoming him.
Well done, already fucking up the job, you thought, but the turquoise-eyed man let out a small chuckle, his voice deep but smooth like velvet, “Aren’t you cute?” He tilted his head to the side, a small smirk forming upon his pink lips. It was a bit hard not to stare at the scar that decorated his face, but you tried your best not to shift your gaze downward, not even the slightest bit.
You let out a shy laugh, “Thank you, I’ll be your personal server for tonight. If you need anything, I’ll be over there, at the mini-bar.” You couldn’t care less about his little compliment, you’ve heard the varieties of it, coming from different types of men that you had previously served.
It was common sense to expect some customers—if not all—to act this way toward the servers, and it honestly sickened you how some men could think that it was okay to talk to women like this. Yes, you and your co-workers were employees of a club but that didn’t give them the liberty to say and do anything they wanted.
After all, you guys were just trying to make a living. The least customers could do was extend their respect to mere club employees.
As you walked back to the mini-bar, you swore you could feel his burning gaze on you but you shook it off and ignored it, after all, he was just like any other man you’ve interacted with in this club.
“Whiskey, on the rocks.” He signalled the bartender behind you before pulling something out from his pocket, you didn’t know what it was but he was writing something, not that you cared.
Shortly after, the bartender set a lowball glass on the tray, the translucent coppery liquid modestly filling the glass, complemented with ice. You grabbed the tray and made your way over to the man situated on the sofa, neatly setting the cold drink before him.
“Sanzu.” The rosy-haired man spoke up from where he sat, pocketing whatever he was writing on and leaned forward to reach for the drink, “Hm?” You blinked at him, unsure what to reply, eyes wide and giving him a curious look
“Name ‘s Sanzu.” “Oh, alrigh—” “Why don’t you come hang out with me a little, hm?” Sanzu cut you off, an expectant look forming in his pretty aquamarine eyes. You awkwardly looked around as if there was someone you could ask for permission, but nonetheless, you hesitantly made your way over to him.
You sat next to him, knees touching together and arms neatly folded on your lap as if you were getting a formal photograph taken. There was ample room between the two of you, although it looked awkward, you decided it would be more awkward if you had sat next to Sanzu so closely, given the fact that you didn’t even know this man and he was a patron.
“I’m not really sure if this is professional. It’s protocol that I am not to sit with any pat—” “It’s completely fine, I personally know the people who own this club.” Sanzu slung one arm on the back rest while the other held the whiskey, bringing it up to his lips.
All you could do was nod, clearly, there was nothing else you could argue about.
Sanzu set the empty glass on the table and shifted his whole body to face you, “Tell me… what’s a pretty girl like you working at a club like this? That glint in your eyes screams innocence.” He lifted the slender hand that rested on the backrest and brought it up to your black mask, tracing each intricate design that decorated it.
His hand ventured further to one side of your face, reaching for the satin bow behind your head that secured the mask, his slender fingers tangling with the loops of the bow before pulling at the loose end, causing your mask to fall on your lap.
How exquisite. Sanzu keenly tilted his head to the side, turquoise eyes brimming with such interest.
“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” A saccharine smile formed on his scarred lips. You snapped out of your trance, blinking up at him, “Oh, uh, ‘m just here to pay my bills and student loan…” you whispered, a bit embarrassed.
“Oh? And does this club pay you enough to do so?”
It didn’t. Your pay was just enough to get you through each week but you were practically scraping through, most of your meals were from the convenience store and there were times where you didn’t bring any lunch to eat in between your lectures due to your financial situation. It also didn’t help the fact that the weekly allowance from your parents all went to the dorm you rented.
Your parents weren’t white-collar workers like the customers you encountered in this club, they walked with confidence, swiping their cards left and right without a care in the world. Their wrists and neck decorated with heavy and expensive accessories while also donning luxury brands from head-to-toe that were probably expensive enough to pay for at least half of—if not more than—your tuition fee.
You assumed Sanzu was a white-collar worker, seeing the way he strutted into the room earlier, like he owned it, and the way he was neatly dressed and not a single wrinkle on his expensive suit. You also noticed the shiny watch he sported on his left wrist, glimmering under the lights.
“No.” You simply answered, gaze fixed on your hands that were slowly balling into fists.
Where was this conversation even going? You thought.
Was he here to degrade and make fun of your social status? Mock you because you weren’t in the same tax bracket? Flaunt his dirty money in your face? You’ve encountered this many times with other customers, belittling your very existence because of a simple mistake you’ve made.
It never bothered you these days like it did when you first encountered it, you remember crying on the toilet as you replayed the scene of a customer yelling harsh words at you, it didn’t help that they were also quite intoxicated. You were used to it by now but it was tiring, you didn’t need strangers telling you left and right that you weren’t like them.
“What if I tell you I could pay you more? Much more than your job can.”
You met his gaze, brows furrowing as you were confused about what this whole conversation was about. God, was he a businessman wanting to recruit employees? If he was, then this is highly unprofessional, you thought.
“I don’t quite follow…?”
Sanzu just gave you a small chuckle before pulling something out from his pocket and handing it to you, “If you decide you’re too good for this environment, I’m just a call away.” He stood up and made his way towards the elevator, bidding goodbye to the DJ, bartender and you.
He gave you one last smile before the elevator doors shut in front of him, and just like that, Sanzu was gone.
You let out a breath you’ve been holding ever since you entered this room and looked down at the folded piece of paper on your lap. With curiosity, you opened the paper, ‘I’m just getting started’ it wrote, with his number in red ink. You were about to shove it into your pocket until you noticed another paper behind it, your eyes widened.
It was a cheque. Was this what he was writing earlier?
Haruchiyo Sanzu, it stated on the top left corner, but what shocked you the most was the amount ordered to pay you, it was clearly more than what you made in your part-time job and was enough to get you through the week, more than a week, even.
How could Sanzu just give you this much money without batting an eye? Let alone a stranger he had just met. Was he crazy? But then your mind wandered back to the sentence on the other piece of paper, ‘I’m just getting started.’ Did that indicate he was able to give you more?
Surely not.
Boy, were you wrong. You contemplated for days on end whether to call Sanzu or not, it was very tempting but what if he was just bluffing? You knew he wasn’t, you went to the bank a few days ago to check if the cheque was fake or not, and to your surprise, it wasn’t fake. It had the exact amount of money stated on it.
A few weeks had passed when you finally decided to call Sanzu’s number due to the growing desperation for financial aid, you tried your best to rely on yourself and the part-time job at the club but it just wasn’t enough, you needed more. You needed what Sanzu was offering.
You were a bit hesitant to call him since you didn’t know if his offer still stood even after quite a period of time but you were desperate, and plus, it didn’t hurt to try. If he didn’t pick up then you’d have to suck it up and find other ways to support your living, even if it meant bending your back.
To your surprise, Sanzu did pick up, rather quickly, even.
Little did you know that this call was the pivoting point of your life, where you could finally say goodbye to your old lifestyle and welcome a new one you have never experienced before.
Upon meeting up with Sanzu, he had come clean about his intentions and how he was going to provide you anything and everything you ever wanted in exchange for company and sexual favours, and nothing else. A sugar daddy. You knew the offer was too good to not involve some kind of physical factors, but it wasn’t like you were new to sex.
Yes, others might view it as dirty and disrespectful to one’s self that they would simply let an older man ask them for sexual favours in return for the lavish lifestyle, but life was never butterflies and rainbows, life was harsh and as much as you’d hate to admit it, only the richest could survive among times like this where everything was in demand and becoming more expensive.
Looking at the situation at hand, it wasn’t like you had any other choice at this point. If the luxury life was going to welcome you with open arms through a man named Haruchiyo Sanzu, then you’d willingly let it.
You sat inside Sanzu’s white Bugatti Centodieci, on the way to a dinner reservation, the low roaring of its exhaust filling your ears as it came to a smooth halt at an intersection. You’ve been in this luxury car countless times before but you’ve never gotten quite used to it because you knew how expensive this vehicle was; you’ve done your research on some of the brands Sanzu sported, one of them being this extremely flamboyant car.
Your little research told you that there were only ten of the Centodieci models around the world, and Sanzu owned one of them. Your hands couldn’t help but sweat at the thought, causing you to smooth your pleated skirt down to wipe it off, “I like your nails, princess.” Sanzu reached a hand over the console and took yours, his fingers tracing the intricate details of your jewelled stiletto nails. Rhinestones gleaming underneath the bright city lights outside.
Not only were they embedded in expensive rhinestones but some of them were covered in 24K gold foil, costing your appointment at a whopping price but Sanzu never batted an eye when he swiped his card yesterday, no hesitation whatsoever. Last week, he had asked you to choose a nail design you really liked and he would take care of booking the appointment, of course, you jumped at that opportunity.
You knew why Sanzu loved paying for your nail appointments.
“Do you want me to test them out?” You blinked up at him and took his hand into yours, sensually massaging and rubbing it as if it were something else, god, Sanzu wished it was something else. He cursed under his breath at the sensation of his blood rushing down to his cock with need, his other hand gripping the leather steering wheel a little harder, knuckles turning painfully white as you continued with your ministrations,
“You always know what I want, huh?” He let out a breathy chuckle, shifting uncomfortably in his leather seat, cock now straining against his navy dress pants and begging to be let out. Sanzu skilfully manoeuvred his vehicle, taking desperate turns left and right to find a random deserted place to park, although it didn’t really matter if there were people around or not, his vehicle was heavily tinted and he liked the thrill of getting caught.
What were they gonna do? Stop him from getting head? They could try.
The tyres of Sanzu’s vehicle loudly skidded against the rough pavement of the empty parking lot as he desperately parked his car, not even bothering to situate his vehicle in a parking space, it was already evening and no one was around anyway.
“Fuck, come here.” Sanzu groaned, reclining his seat back and pulling your face closer to his own. You leaned over the console to kiss him, knees resting on the smooth material, one arm against the window of the driver’s side for support, and the other gripping the headrest behind his head.
Sanzu craned his neck forward to meet your gloss-stained lips, one hand firmly resting on your chin to keep you in place, while the other wandered elsewhere. His kisses held desperation in them, soft pillowy lips laced with hunger as it moved against your own. The man beneath you let out short erratic breaths that tickled below your nose, occasionally letting out soft eager whines into your lips.
He was usually on the dominant side, but fuck, was he needy when it came to receiving. Not that you complained, though, it was a pretty sight to see him all wrecked and at your mercy. It was priceless to see his authoritative demeanour crumble into nothing but a pathetic whining mess that begged for his cock to be touched and sucked on, even if it rarely happened.
You slightly jerked at Sanzu’s wandering hand that found its way to your inner thigh under the dimly lit car—the only source of light coming from the warm street lights of the parking lot—, slowly massaging and rubbing unfamiliar shapes at the supple flesh and earning a small whimper from you. His hand ventured around your outer thigh and flicked your skirt up, the skimpy fabric that was once barely covering your ass, now rested on your lower back and in full view for anyone who passed by the passenger’s window.
But you weren’t worried, Sanzu’s vehicle was tinted.
A small moan escaped your swollen lips but was swallowed down during the heated kiss with Sanzu as his large hand landed a merciless slap against the fat of your ass, the sharp searing pain from the sudden skin contact spreading across your backside making you wetter, “Put those pretty hands to use, baby.” He broke the kiss, lips ghosting over your own as he panted out, desperate for air to fill his lungs.
Sanzu placed both his hands behind his head and relaxed his torso against the warm leather seat to let you do your thing, his lust-filled turquoise eyes intently following your every move.
Shuffling closer to the evident tent in his pants, you placed your palm over his crotch, roughly palming his erection, causing a deep throaty groan from Sanzu, his back involuntarily arching away from the backrest and hands flying up to the headrest behind his head, gripping on it for his dear life. His eager eyes watched the way your twinkling nails moved against his strained cock, biting his lip at the sight and heat spreading throughout his body.
He loosened the black tie around his neck and hastily unbuttoned his collar so he could breathe better. You gave him a sly smile before slowly guiding the small pull-tab down the teeth of the zipper, the car was quiet, so you could only hear the movement of the zipper and Sanzu’s soft desperate pants, his pink lips slightly parted.
With the help of his hips, you pulled his pants down along with his underwear just enough to release his throbbing cock from its confines, earning a slight hiss from the rosy pink haired man as you firmly gripped his heavy length, your rhinestone-studded nails complimenting his hard cock with your fingers wrapped around him.
Sanzu let out a loud moan as you pumped his dick up and down after spitting at it, you gripped him like a vice, wrist skilfully twisting and tugging at his cock just how he liked it. He could almost cum right then and there at the sight of your freshly manicured fingers wrapped around his length. Fuck, he loved seeing your jewellery-embedded nails around his cock.
You flattened your tongue and licked a long slow stripe up the underside of his dick, earning a loud desperate whine from Sanzu, one hand flying down to tangle into your hair to eagerly tug at it, “Fuuuuuuck…” he breathed out, his bottom lip tightly caged between his teeth as he threw his head back.
God, you never failed to give him the best head of his life, and you were just getting started.
More desperate airy whines slipped past his pink lips as you peppered his length with light kisses, his hips greedily bucking up at you, Sanzu needed more, “Ngh! Stop being such a tease and suck me off already. We have a reservation, remember—ah!” He whined, lust-filled hunger evident in his tone.
Suddenly remembering about the dinner reservation, you didn’t hesitate to put the pink head in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around the blunt tip and primarily focusing on his precum-filled slit that had Sanzu practically writhing in his seat, his face contorting with pure pleasure, back arching, and hips hungrily bucking into your mouth, causing you to hold them down,
“Haaah! That’s it, now take it all in like the good girl you are.” He moaned, breath shaky and unstable.
And so you did. Without hesitation, you slowly slid your mouth down his length while taking deep breaths through your nose just like had Sanzu taught you before. His grip on your hair tightened, earning a loud moan from you which sent vibrations down his cock, “Ohhh fuck, you’re taking me in so—ngh! So well.” You started bobbing your head up and down, taking slow experimental motions with his hard cock sliding against your throat, this caused Sanzu to buck his hips higher, eager to feel the constant friction of your mouth against him.
“Mhm, I told you to stop teasing, didn’t I?” Sanzu growled and swiftly sat up, roughly taking the black tie loosely secured around his collar. He grabbed both your hands and pinned them behind your back—just resting above your ass—, using his tie to keep them in place. The whole action caused you to lean forward, taking more of Sanzu’s cock into your mouth.
Sanzu leaned back into his seat, one hand gripping the headrest and the other going back into your hair as he thrusted his hips in and out of your mouth, “Mhm—ah! That’s more like it. I can’t keep reminding you that I’m still in control here.” He moaned. Sanzu gathered all of your hair and put it up in a make-shift ponytail with his hand, as it obstructed his view from your pretty mouth taking all of his dick.
With his hand wrapped securely around your loose hair, he started relentlessly thrusting up into your hot mouth, his other hand behind his head practically digging into the headrest which he knew was going to leave evident marks but he didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck about potentially damaging the expensive leather of his car, when you were taking him so so well.
All you could do was sit there and take it, tears uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks which surely ruined your makeup, your knees were painfully digging into the console and thighs burning from the lack of stretch but you didn’t care, all you wanted was for Sanzu to cum into your mouth.
Sanzu’s head spun as he was nearing his high, his head thrown back, lips parted, and stomach clenching from immense pleasure while he kept at his pace. His chest heaved up and down as he let out short airy desperate whines in tune with the movement of his hips, fuck, he was so close.
“I’m gonna cum—ngh! You better take all of my fuckin’ load like the good girl you are.” He thickly swallowed, his desperate whines turning into shallow erratic breathing, only a few more thrusts away before he topped over the edge.
Sanzu’s hips faltered as the rumbling coil deep in his stomach finally snapped, he threw his head back and arched his back as he cummed into your mouth, letting out a loud shameless moan that filled the entire vehicle. You moaned into his dick, feeling his hot cum roll down your throat as he firmly kept your head in place, his hips rolling into you to ride out his orgasm while gripping the headrest behind him, the tips of his fingers hurting from the constant pressure he’s been putting on it.
“Haah, yeah that’s it. Such a good girl.” Sanzu praised, letting go of your hair as you eagerly lapped up some of his cum that rolled down his dick. Before he could undo the tie that bound your wrists together, his phone loudly rang, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.
Sanzu quickly reached for his phone that was inside his blazer pocket and cleared his throat before answering it. “Yes, yes, we will be there soon. Just got held up in traffic.” He chuckled, giving you a knowing look before bidding goodbye to whoever was on the other side of the call.
“They were just confirming if we were still coming for our reservation.” Sanzu laughed as he pulled his tie from your wrists, “Held up in traffic, huh.” You raised a brow at him—throat sore from your recent activities—as you sat into your seat and fixed yourself up with the help of the sun visor mirror. Sanzu tucked himself back in and gave you a breathy chuckle, “That was the first thing that popped into my mind.”
“Also, I didn’t hurt you too much, right? Got really carried away, sorry.” He sighed as he adjusted his seat into its normal upright position, looking at you with concern.
Sanzu knew that he could get too carried away during sex which causes him to become rough and unrelentless. Of course, he had already discussed this with you and to his surprise, you were okay with it, apparently you liked it rough. You shook your head, brushing him off with a smile, “It’s okay, you were enjoying yourself back there.” You laughed, sending him a teasing look.
The man next to you shook his head as he could feel warmth creeping up his cheeks and embarrassment engulfing his body. “Nonsense.” He muttered before turning his car on to make your way to the dinner reservation.
Sanzu’s personality was such a contrast from the first time you met him back at the club, right off the bat, you thought he was a cocky and arrogant individual with the way he acted that night but as you got to know his personality better, he was a completely different person.
The facade that he had on back when you first met him was definitely gone. But was that really a front he just put up? It made you wonder.
Both of you calmly walked inside the exquisite restaurant like you weren’t just sucking him off a couple of minutes ago. Sanzu rested a palm on the low of your back as the waiter guided you to your seats, “Why the sudden fancy dinner?” You looked up at him, his aquamarine gaze meeting yours, Sanzu shrugged, a small smile forming upon his lips, “Just wanted to treat my baby, that’s all. You’ve been so good for me, might reward you more, later.” He leaned closer as he spoke the last line, a hint of slyness laced in his tone.
Maybe you could actually live in this lifestyle.
Ever since Sanzu stepped into your life, there wasn’t a day where you struggled anymore. No more sleepless nights of thinking how to get through tomorrow, no more stressing out about upcoming bills, and lastly, no more encountering drunk nasty old men at the club who sneered at your social status.
You could solely focus on your law degree now. You were getting better grades because the financial stress had been lifted from your shoulders, your mind wasn’t wandering elsewhere during lectures, trying to think of ways of how to ration your pay for the week.
There was no other possible choice for you but to take Sanzu’s offer. If you were going to take the easy way out of your financial stress, might as well do it with someone who splendidly paid you, not only with money but with gifts and mind blowing sex.
You stared at the man sitting across you, as the waiter poured Moët & Chandon MCIII into two flute glasses, the translucent yellow liquid neatly sloshing around the glass. You admired Sanzu’s features as he mindlessly tapped at his phone—work related, he said—his expression unchanging as his thumbs swiftly typed something.
It has come to your attention that you never really knew what Sanzu did for work, every time you asked him, he would just brush it off and say something along the lines of ‘just business related stuff’ and you believed him, you didn’t want to push his boundaries further but you wished he was as open to you as you were with him.
Sanzu was very secretive about his phone calls too; one time, you had seen his phone ringing on his night stand while he was in the bathroom. You were about to grab his phone and take it to him, that was until he came out of the bathroom and saw you reaching for it, he practically lunged for his phone and answered it straight away while walking out of his bedroom.
The only thing you heard from Sanzu as he answered the phone was, “Yes, boss?”. You knew this ‘boss’ was called Mikey since you had seen the caller ID while reaching for his phone. It seemed like Sanzu was working for someone in a higher position than him despite having immense wealth. Who was this Mikey, anyway?
There would also be times whenever you slept over at his penthouse, Sanzu would just disappear during ungodly hours of the morning, sometimes it would stir you awake because he always reached for his nightstand drawer—that was always locked—before he left and sometimes it would make a loud creaking sound whenever he opened it. He always tucked the item he took out from that specific drawer into his pocket.
You never knew what he took out or what other contents that drawer housed because it needed a key to be opened, a key that Sanzu always took with him. You assumed it was something heavy as he had dropped it on the rug one time, causing him to curse under his breath.
There were times where you slept alone in his bed waiting for him to come home during the night but he would never arrive, instead, he would arrive sometime in the morning, very exhausted and looked like he needed a week of sleep.
Was he being overworked? You hoped not.
You knew this relationship between you and Sanzu was just contractual and not built on any feelings but you couldn’t help feeling sorry for the man. Sometimes, when it was his day off and he wasn’t leaving during ungodly hours of the morning, you would catch him smoking out on his balcony instead, which overlooked the city down below. Sanzu would just stare off into the horizon, letting the tobacco completely fill his lungs.
He always looked so… empty.
“I have something for you later, back at home. If that's fine with you?” You were pulled from your trance by Sanzu’s voice. He tucked his phone in his blazer and gave you an expectant look. You nodded your head, “Fine by me, you don’t even have to ask.”
Sanzu was always like this, he always spoiled you. He was so unpredictable, in a good way. He always got you what you wanted and sometimes he would even go out of his way to personally pick and buy whatever he thought would suit you. This man spent money on you left and right without a care in the world, sometimes you would wake up with a big bouquet of roses that scented his entire penthouse because he ‘ felt like buying you one’ as per his words.
During the times you stayed at your dorm for the night, there would be a delivery next morning of whatever item Sanzu decided to swipe his card on, whether it be designer shoes from the most recent collection, overly priced flowers, or clothes that only catered to you, the only thing consistent was that it was expensive, it was always expensive.
You never even asked for most of the gifts he gave you but nonetheless, you were thankful for them. Although, it did overwhelm you sometimes with how much he was spending on you. One time you asked him, “What if you run out of money?” and Sanzu merely laughed at your question but answered, “Baby, I will never lose money. I can guarantee you that.” There was something odd about his tone when he said that but you brushed it off.
Back at his penthouse, you waltzed toward his couch and practically threw yourself on it while Sanzu wandered off to get the item he had recently bought you. 
You still couldn’t believe that he had offered you to stay with him in this penthouse for free but you had to politely decline his offer since you still liked the idea of having your own space, plus, you didn’t even know when this whole thing was going to end, so it was better to be ready with a place to fall back to.
The first time you saw his penthouse, your mind was blown. The interior design screamed modern and luxurious, every corner you turned had your jaw dropping. There was a massive crystal chandelier that hung right at the centre of his living room, the walls were mainly floor-to-ceiling glass which allowed you to see breathtaking panoramic views of the city, it was truly beautiful during sunrise and sunset. The way the warm hues of the sun engulfed the whole space was just phenomenal.
His bedroom was grand and also consisted of these floor-to-ceiling glass, to which sometimes he liked to fuck you against, giving you a view of the bustling streets below as he pounded into you.
“Here.” Sanzu thrusted a rather large brown paper bag into your face, his aquamarine eyes gleaming with pure excitement. You sat up from his couch and took the paper bag, Christian Louboutin it read, written in white font.
He can’t be serious, you thought.
He sat next to you as you pulled out an equally coloured shoe box, which also had the same writing as the bag. “Sanzu…” you gasped, giving him a look of disbelief but he only silently urged you on to open the box.
After several layers of white tissue paper, you were met with a vibrant red shoe bag that had the same writing as the paper bag and the shoe box. As you removed the shoe bag, you were met with the most breathtaking pair of shoes you’ve ever seen.
They were black 130mm heeled platforms, donning its signature red bottom and consisted of a strap that would encase the ankle. The pumps were shiny underneath the chandelier light, causing you to gape at it with a curious gaze as you picked up one shoe. It was your very first pair of Louboutins and you were beyond ecstatic.
With Sanzu’s help, you managed to step into the heels. It was very comfortable despite its daunting heel size; you walked back and forth in his living room, strutting about and trying to get comfortable with the new pumps, the red bottoms loudly clicking against the tiled floors.
With a huge smile plastered on your face, you stopped in front of Sanzu, “Oh my goodness, I am over the moon right now.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest and inhaling his musky cologne. Sanzu stroked your hair, chuckling, “Anything for my baby. You always look so pretty in the things I buy you.”
“Now, how about I reward you for being so good today?” His hand stopped right at your nape and snaked around to the front of your neck, slightly pushing you away and leaning down to give you a passionate kiss, which you didn’t hesitate to return.
This time, his kisses were soft and sensual, like he wanted to savour every single moment with your lips on his but there was a slight desperation in them. You didn’t miss the way Sanzu’s fingers ever so slightly tightened around your neck and the way he leaned forward to try and deepen the kiss.
He didn’t spend much time with your lips and started trailing light but eager kisses down the side of your neck, earning a slight whimper from you as he bit down on a particular spot. Your hands clung to his navy blue blazer, wrinkling the expensive fabric with how much he abused your neck with his mouth.
You were already a whimpering mess and Sanzu hasn’t even done anything to you, yet. He loved how responsive you were under his touches, how the slightest touch he gave elicited the prettiest sounds from you. Such a good girl for him, that’s why he loved spoiling you.
“Wait for me on the bed, princess. You know what to do, everything off except those fuckin’ heels.” Sanzu broke the kiss and gave your forehead a soft peck, ushering you to his bedroom.
You nodded and wordlessly made your way to his room, platform heels loudly making contact with the tiled floor. Every step you took had your heart racing faster with excitement, you knew you were in for a long night and Sanzu wasn’t the one to hold back, especially if you’ve been such a good girl for him,
Before getting on Sanzu’s bed and waiting for him there, you had obeyed his instructions and stripped down every single article of clothing that covered your body, except your new Louboutins. You patiently sat on the edge of the bed, slightly shivering at the contrast of the cool air against your exposed skin, causing goosebumps and your nipples to immediately harden.
If you were being honest, you were already wet. You knew Sanzu didn’t have to do much since you were already turned on from the head you gave him in his car earlier. The way he turned into a whimpering mess despite being so domineering did things to you, it always did and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together at the thought of him.
Sanzu came in a few seconds later, one hand holding his unfastened tie and the other holding handcuffs which mischievously glimmered under the hallway light, “Good girl. Now lie back on the pillows for me, baby.” He gave you a smug smile, his long legs striding towards the bed.
He encased one wrist with a cuff, the audible click of it letting you know that there was no getting away from him now; Sanzu looped the chain that held the cuffs together around the back of a metal bar on his headboard and cuffed your other wrist, both hands now firmly situated above your head. You slightly tugged at the cuffs, it was cold against your skin but you liked it.
Sanzu also brought the black tie up to your eyes, completely obstructing your view from anything, he firmly tied a knot behind your head and gave you a peck on the lips.
With your vision obstructed and your hands bound, you could only rely on your hearing. This made everything much more exciting, the thrill of not being able to see what he was going to do next nor not being able to touch him.
You could hear the rustling of sheets and suddenly, Sanzu wasn’t on the bed with you anymore, you couldn’t feel his weight on the bed. You assumed he was undressing himself as you heard the loud clang of the metal buckle on his belt meet the floor, along with the rustling of fabric.
The bed dipped under Sanzu’s weight as he positioned himself near your feet, he grabbed your ankles and brought them closer to you, effectively bending your knees toward the ceiling. He crawled closer to your anticipating body, watching the way your chest heaved with desperation and mouth slightly parted, smirking at the way your Louboutins dug into the mattress.
He spread your legs apart and started kissing down your inner thighs, alternating between each leg, earning a small moan of surprise from you. Sanzu stopped at a spot dangerously near the apex of your legs, biting and sucking at the supple flesh, causing you to whine and instinctively tug at the metal cuffs around your wrist.
“You’re already so wet for me… have I been neglecting my baby?” He cooed into your wet folds, lips ghosting over them to tease you. Fuck, your scent drove Sanzu crazy, he didn’t even know if he was even going to last but he wanted this to be about you and you, only. He didn’t care about putting his needs last, he wanted you to cum around him, and as many times as you could.
You let out a sigh of content as Sanzu flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your wet cunt, revelling at the way you tasted against him. He watched as you desperately yanked your wrists, making a loud clanking noise as he wrapped his mouth around your cunt, noisily sucking like his life depended on it.
Small whines escaped past your lips at Sanzu’s ministrations but soon turned into a loud moan as he shoved his stiff tongue inside, exploring every single space of your wet heat. His tongue moved in you at such speed that caused you to instinctively close your legs with the pleasure being too much to handle but Sanzu pinned both your knees sideways on the bed, his firm grip letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you close your legs.
“You can’t be doing that, baby. When I’m giving you a reward, you’ll have to take all of it.”
That’s right. Sanzu didn’t only spoil you by buying you expensive luxury items, no, he spoiled you in many different ways, and just like how you kindly accepted the things he bought you, you had to do the same thing with what he was giving you right now. Denying his mouth was equivalent to denying everything he had bought you.
Sanzu alternated between licking and sucking at your clit without faltering, causing you to near your orgasm. He looked up at you from his long prominent lashes and observed the way your stomach was clenching and back arching with pleasure, how you constantly pulled at the cuffs on your wrist hard enough to leave red marks, the way your lips were parted slightly and letting out shallow high pitched whines along with his name.
“Aah! Fuck, Sanzu! I’m going to cum.” Your hips desperately bucked up against his mouth as you came on it, head thrown back against his pillows as you cried out Sanzu’s name in a loud moan, it was music to his ears.
Sanzu lapped up your cum, sloppily licking at your cunt, causing your legs to shake at the overstimulation. If he wasn’t pinning your legs down, you would have tried to close your them already. He gave your cunt one last peck before finally leaving it alone.
You panted against his mattress, legs jelly and mind hazy from just being eaten out, your arms were also burning at the uncomfortable position but you knew Sanzu was nowhere near done.
The night just had begun, and like he wrote in that piece of paper when you first met him, he’s just getting started.
He got on his knees and gave his hard cock a few strokes, groaning at the pleasure. Sanzu placed both your legs over his shoulders and grabbed the base of his cock, teasing the tip of it with your cunt, slowly rubbing up and down your wet folds but never actually putting it in.
“Sanzu, please…” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip. He was so close but not exactly where you needed him to be.
It was truly a sight to see. Your hands bound above your head with handcuffs, your vision obstructed with his tie, your legs resting on top of his shoulders, and your newly bought Louboutins just behind his head.
Wasting no time, Sanzu slowly pushed his tip into your wet heat, already groaning at your tightness but before he could push any further, his phone loudly rang which caused both of you to jump at the sound. “Fucking hell.” Sanzu scoffed, slipping out of you and placing your legs back down to grab his phone from the pile of clothes.
“Sanzuuu, I’m sure they can wait. Please, just fuck me.” You whined, craning your neck as you felt him getting off the bed but he ignored your desperate pleas and answered his phone, “What the fuck do you want, Haitani?” He spat, hastily making his way back to you and placing your legs up on his shoulders again.
Was he seriously about to fuck you while on call? Who was that, anyway?
Sanzu kissed the inner side of your knee before slowly pushing all the way in, letting out a hot gasp and throwing his head back at the way your hot cunt desperately sucked him in, “Ah, fuck! You’re taking me so well, baby.” He praised you, on hand settling on your hip and the other holding his phone against his ears.
“Are you seriously fucking someone right now? Sanzu–” “You’re the one who called me during a very important moment, Ran. Now, what do you want?” You heard Sanzu reply to whoever was on the call, his voice clearly strained.
“Getting your dick wet isn’t important! I was just about to ask you if you wanted to come with Rindou and I.” Ran huffed, Sanzu could tell the older man was rolling his eyes at him.
Sanzu picked up his pace, the way his balls loudly slapped against your ass could surely be heard by Ran. “Ngh—ah! Sanzu!” a loud moan escaped your lips, causing you to quickly bite down at your bottom lip, embarrassment filling you as the male on the other side of the call most likely heard your shameless moan.
“Why would I want to—ah! Fuck! Why would I want to go with you two—ngh!” He shamelessly moaned into his phone, not giving a single fuck if Ran was disgusted or not, he should be thankful he even picked up the call.
Sanzu saw the way you were biting your lip so hard that it was sure to draw blood soon, he didn’t like you concealing your moans so he leaned forward and the hand that was previously on your hip was now situated on the mattress, beside your chest. This position allowed him to get deeper strokes into you, earning a loud cry of his name from you.
He was so deep and deliciously hit your g spot over and over again that you couldn’t help but let out a chain of loud moans, at this point you didn’t even think about the person on Sanzu’s phone, he was giving it to you so good that you had to let him know. The metal cuffs clinked against his headboard as you tried to desperately reach for something to keep you grounded with the immense pleasure you felt.
It also didn’t help with how your vision was obstructed, resulting in your other senses to become heightened, you could feel pleasure at a much higher level.
Ran was saying something to Sanzu but he was too lost in pleasure to even comprehend what the fuck he was talking about. His head was spinning from pleasure, god, you were taking him so well. “Mhm. You know what—ah! I don’t—oh fuck, Princess! I don’t even fucking care at this point, I’m hanging up.” Sanzu threw his head back in pleasure as he chucked his phone somewhere in the sheets but forgetting to actually end the call.
He couldn’t care less. He wanted your cum around his dick.
With the distraction at bay, Sanzu focused on you. Leaning down to suck on your breasts and neck as you panted below him, “Are you close, baby?” he gritted against your neck, jaw tightening at how tight you were around him. You frantically nodded, face contorted with pleasure and lips parted, letting out desperate high pitched whines, “I—ngh! I’m going to cum, Sanzu!” you cried out.
Sanzu leaned closer to your ear, “Fuck, that’s it, princess. Cum around my cock like the good girl you are.” he panted, his hot breath fanning against the side of your neck.
You arched your back in pleasure, chest pushing up against Sanzu’s as you moaned his name, followed by a string of profanities. Sanzu’s hips didn’t falter one bit, despite how tight you became as you clenched around him, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and how much of a good girl you were for him as he rode out your orgasm.
“Ngh—ah! I’m so close.” Sanzu whined as he quickly pulled his cock out of you, desperately pumping it with his hand. He bucked his hips up at his hand and threw his head back with a loud groan as he cummed on your chest, his hands not slowing down to milk his cock down to every last drop.
You moaned at the sensation of his hot cum landing on you, arching your back to push your chest further toward him. Sanzu panted above you, seeing the way your body was decorated with his semen.
“We’re not done yet, baby.” he chuckled.
Before he could do anything, he heard his phone beep, like someone had just ended the call. Sanzu was surprised that Ran actually stayed that long in the call, he thought Ran would’ve ended it by the time he threw the phone elsewhere.
Sanzu was true to his words. He was not done with you until you were all spent and begging for him to stop, safe to say that you weren’t going to be walking properly anytime soon and that was fine by you, it was a Friday night anyway.
You lazily lounged on Sanzu’s couch, eating and mindlessly watching whatever programme was on the TV. You were currently waiting for Sanzu to get home, apparently he got called in for work even though it was a Sunday, but oh well. He also told you not to stay up too late and try wait for him but you were stubborn.
It was late in the evening and the programme that was on was the news channel, but you didn’t pay much attention to it and savoured the way your food tasted against your tongue. You could feel your eyes getting droopy by the minute but fought the urge to let sleep take over you.
“In tonight’s news, we now focus on the country’s most notorious crime syndicate, Bonten, as they continue to pose danger to the public… the people shown in this video clip are it’s executives and members…”
Instinctively, you looked up from your snack and towards the TV to see the footage of a white haired man walking and his back towards the camera. A particular design caught you off guard, it was the tattoo on the man’s nape that made you think for a while. His tattoo was of a hanafuda card that symbolised the full moon.
Have I seen that before? You thought.
You shook your head at the silly thought, how have you seen that tattoo before when the news reporter literally mentioned that it originated from the country’s most notorious crime syndicate. Surely if you were to come across a member of that crime syndicate, you probably wouldn’t even make it alive.
Trying to take your mind off the news, you switched the channel to a random one which happened to be a food channel, you could work with that. Your attention shifted over to the door, hearing it close and someone shuffling around.
Sanzu.
The man walked through the hallway, hanging his blazer on the coat rack and rolling his polo sleeves up, “Baby, what are you still doing up?” Sanzu sighed as he waltzed over to you, hands wide open to pull you into a hug. “I wanted to wait for you…” you mumbled into his stomach, the smooth material of his tuxedo vest rubbing against your face.
He rubbed your cheeks and smiled down at you, his eyes filled with genuineness, “I’ll just wash up real quick, okay?” You nodded and Sanzu gave you a soft peck on the forehead before heading for his bedroom.
You looked over his shoulder and trailed his figure that slowly disappeared into the hallway leading to his room, letting out a sigh you’ve been holding as you could feel your heart racing faster.
There were two things that stood out to you despite his dimly lit penthouse, the first one was the hanafuda card tattoo on his left forearm and the other was the ever so slightly spots of red on his sleeves but maybe your eyes played tricks on you for that one but you surely saw his tattooed left arm.
Your mind was quick to wander elsewhere, you didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe you were just overthinking it, maybe he just coincidentally got the same tattoo as the country’s most feared syndicate, surely, right?
Besides, the odds of becoming face to face with an executive of Bonten were practically zero to none. You lived a quiet life so there was no reason for you to even encounter a member, that’s right, your life was nothing but monotonous… until you met Sanzu.
Come to think of it, Sanzu never even told you where he worked or who he worked for. All you knew is that he was a busy man but still made time for you but this piece of missing information was enough to speculate. You knew it was wrong to accuse someone without hard, concrete evidence; innocent until proven guilty, your law professors taught you that.
But something inside you screamed to know the truth, you didn’t know how you’ll gain the information, surely not by walking up to him and going, “Hey, are you part of that crime syndicate called Bonten?”
Just then, a name suddenly popped up in your head. Sanzu mentioned a name two days ago during a call.
Haitani.
That name rang a bell to you but where have you heard it before? It took you a few minutes to ponder over the somewhat familiar name but it finally clicked. Haitani, that was the name you’ve heard a lot back when you were still working at the club in Roppongi. The club they owned. You didn’t know much about the name’s origin but you knew there were two of them and they basically ruled that district. Gang members.
It dawned upon you that Sanzu once mentioned that he knew the owner of the club when you first met him. It made sense. The dots all connected to one another but what were you exactly going to do?
You quickly turned the TV off and made your way to Sanzu’s bedroom, the shower was still running which indicated he was nowhere near being done. You walked into his room, your eyes immediately catching his unlocked drawer slightly ajar, the drawer that he always locked without fail, the one he always opened before he left early in the mornings.
Shallow breaths slipped past your lips as you nervously made your way toward it, taking cautious steps like something would jump out at you at any minute. Your hands nervously reached for the handle and pulled it, the loud creaking sound making you jolt.
A gun. All in its glory, lying right in the middle of the drawer and nothing else. The metal barrel shone under the bright lights of Sanzu’s bedroom, as if it was taunting you.
You took a few steps back, eyes widening at the dangerous weapon before your eyes. So many questions ran through your head and it also didn’t help the way your heart was beating faster than ever.
Your head snapped toward the bathroom door as Sanzu stepped out, damp rosy pink hair, exposed chest and grey sweatpants sitting dangerously low around his waist. His eyes darted between the unreadable expression in your face and the opened drawer, tilting his head slightly to the side, he looked at you with a weird glint in his eyes,
“Baby, has no one ever taught you not to go through things that aren’t yours?” His voice laced with venom as he took long strides towards you, his slender fingers making its way to your chin to firmly hold it in place.
Avoiding his eye contact, you muttered a small apology, closing your eyes which only made Sanzu smirk, “Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson, huh?” Before you could say anything, he closed the gap between your lips, his other hand silently reaching for the 9mm in the drawer and placed it in his pocket. It wasn’t loaded, Sanzu knew better than to load his gun with bullets with you around his penthouse.
He backed you into the floor-to-ceiling glass before deepening the kiss; his kisses were rough and needy, the way his lips hungrily moved against yours told you that he was desperate. You didn’t hesitate to return his kiss in the same manner, your mind slowly forgetting about this whole thing but it was still there, in the back of your head, waiting to be unravelled.
Sanzu’s hand snaked inside your pants, giving tight circles around your clothed clit, causing you to moan into his mouth. He didn’t have to do much to get you dripping, after all, his light kisses and fingers were enough to have you begging on your knees for him. That was the effect he had on you, he was like drugs and you needed a dose of him everyday.
“You better be all ears for me, baby. I’m only teaching you this lesson once.”
In no time, you were out of your shirt as he turned your body around and pressed your exposed front against the cold surface of the glass, your breath immediately fogging it up. Sanzu trailed kisses down your nape and sucked at a spot on your back, earning a small moan from you. His hands wandered to your chest, each roughly massaging a breast, pulling and groping it.
“Mhm… Sanzu, please.”
Sanzu wasted no time to pull your pants down, slightly shivering at the sudden cool air that hit your exposed legs; he swiftly pulled his stiff cock out of his sweatpants and teased your wet folds through your panties. Your nails scraped against the smooth glass as Sanzu continued with his teasing, tears almost forming in your eyes at how turned on you were.
But he was just as horny as you, so he pushed your panties aside and slid his cock in, bottoming out in one go. You threw your head back against his shoulders, your hands balling into fists against the fogged up glass, “Hah, Sanzu!”
“Such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Sanzu chuckled, pulling out his unloaded 9mm and firmly pressing it against your neck, your walls tightly clenched around his dick at the cool sensation of the barrel against your skin, Sanzu also noticed this and from there on, he saw red.
He picked up his pace, hips roughly fucking up into you at the fastest pace he could possibly attain, “You like it when I use my gun on you? You like the thrill of that? What a fucking slut.” Sanzu whispered into your hair, teeth gritting at the way your walls deliciously hugged his cock, you were so tight that he literally had to let his mind wander somewhere else so he wouldn’t cum right then and there.
You could only moan at his questions, your breasts tightly pressing against the glass surface as your back arched due to Sanzu’s merciless hips. Nothing else was on your mind now, just his cock and the way he was hitting your g-spot with every single thrust of his hips.
His gun made its way to your lips, “Suck on it.” He demanded and you didn’t hesitate to open your mouth and place your lips around the tip of his gun, tongue swirling and sucking on it like it was Sanzu’s dick.
Sanzu cursed against your neck as he heard the wet squelches of your mouth working against his gun, the way your head desperately leaned into the 9mm as if you wanted more, the way you moaned around it the same way you would with his dick. His grip on the weapon tightened, fuck, you were so filthy.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as Sanzu hooked his free hand on the back of your knee and brought it up against the glass, he was much deeper this time and it turned you into nothing but a teary moaning mess around his 9mm. You were so close to cumming.
High pitched whines escaped your lips every time his crotch slapped against your ass, there wasn’t anything you could do but fist your hands into the glass and moan against the weapon that he held up your lips.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum! Cum with me, princess…” Sanzu groaned, inhaling the scent of your hair as he sealed his eyes shut at the immense pleasure. He pushed his gun further into your mouth as you reached your orgasm, causing you to moan loudly and tightly clench around his dick, your legs shaking and nails scraping against the glass surface at the intense sensation you felt.
Sanzu stilled his hips as he came and roughly pushed his dick inside you, causing you tiptoe a bit. He moaned against your back, the grip around your knee tightening, a string of profanities slipped past his lips as you rode out his orgasm by clenching around him.
That night, Sanzu came clean to you. He was indeed part of Bonten and even had a high position as the second-in-command. He told you how you were free to terminate the contract between the two of you because he would understand the fear it instilled within you but he did let you know that he would make sure no harm would come your way, if you decided to stay.
It was pretty self explanatory about why he kept you in the dark about the truth about his job, but he also told you how you helped him take his mind off all the fucked up things he has done. That’s why he had no problem giving and spending large amounts of money on you, after all, it was just dirty money anyway. He figured he could at least put it to good use.
Sanzu has also opened up about how he had practically stopped popping pills left and right ever since he became your sugar daddy, it was a very different world with you, he felt emotions he’s never felt before and feelings he’s never had before.
The world with Bonten often left him feeling empty, a void where his heart should be that he filled by abusing drugs just to get a quick high to try and forget about the horrors of what he has done to innocent people.
You always thought that Sanzu being your sugar daddy only benefited you, but little did you know it actually benefited him more than you could imagine. You needed his money and he needed your company, you needed each other to get through life.
He asked you that night if you were still going to stay with him despite his criminal status.
If playing with fire was your only ticket to living the lavish lifestyle, then you wouldn’t hesitate dancing with the devil in disguise, also known as Haruchiyo Sanzu, Bonten’s second-in-command.
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© mitsuyeaah
3K notes · View notes
apocalypseornaw · 3 months
Text
Things Happen
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Dean Winchester x Reader
When you and Dean get hit with a powder on a hunt you're not sure what's gonna happen until you get stuck in an elevator
It's smut yall
It all happened so fast. One minute you, Sam and Dean were chasing a witch through an old warehouse the next she'd turned, throwing an orange, fruity scented powder all over you and Dean just as Sam got the kill shot.
Your eyes met Dean's as both of you were struck with the realization something was wrong. You could hear your own heartbeat, every inch of your body felt like it was on fire and you were acutely aware of the green eyed hunter clenching his jaw tightly against his own pain to ask if you were ok.
“What the hell is this Sam?” You asked, turning to look at the younger Winchester who'd smartly stood a few feet away from the two of you. “I have no idea” the fire that had been contained on your skin chose that moment to rip through your stomach, nearly making you double over. Dean rushed to your side but the moment his hand touched your back it only made the fire worsen, a groan escaping his lips as well.
“You two go back to the hotel. I'll call Rowena in and we'll figure it out” you glanced over at Dean who nodded “Yeah, ok Sammy. Just watch your back until red gets here”
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Every bump the impala hit shot straight through you. Every nerve ending was on fire and the heat between your thighs was getting worse with every passing moment. It took everything you had to concentrate on anything besides the movements of Dean's fingers on the steering wheel. The thought of those fingers on you, his hands splayed across your body, those damn lips of his tasting your skin. What the hell was going on with you?
You'd always been attracted to Dean, you had eyes. He was a gorgeous man, sweet, caring and no matter how he saw himself a truly good person at his core. You had feelings for him beyond friendship but had never once considered acting on them yet now the only thought you had was what would he feel like inside of you?
—-----------------
Dean was trying to concentrate on the road, clenching every muscle in his jaw hard enough there was a chance he'd cracked a tooth. The fruity scent of that powder still clung to the air but under it he could smell you. The shampoo you preferred, the scented lotion you loved. Every damn bump he hit a low moan would slip from you and his cock would twitch at the sound.
You were a beautiful woman, an amazing hunter and one of the most important people to him. He'd always wanted you, wanted more but wouldn't risk it yet now all he could imagine was having you underneath him.
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You followed Dean into the hotel about the time a loud crack of thunder went through the sky and what seemed like hell itself unleashed. “Fucking tsunami” Dean muttered, heading for the elevator.
You stepped in behind him, shaking slightly. Your legs felt like they were made of jello at that point. Your heart rate was higher than it normally was on hunts and you were certain the slick from your core was dripping down your legs at that point. You fell back against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore Dean's breathing.
You closed your eyes when the elevator began to move but it only went six floors then screeched to a halt. Your eyes flew open “Dean?” He shrugged “I'm trying sweetheart, I'm trying” he was hitting the emergency call button repeatedly.
You slid down to the floor, sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest in hopes to soothe the ache throbbing through you. You vaguely heard Dean curse something about a rolling blackout but couldn't care less. The fire, the heat, everything was starting to hurt. You had to get a release “Dean?”
You knew you sounded wrecked but you didn't care you needed it, you needed him. He knelt in front of you and one look in his eyes told you he was barely hanging on himself “I want you” you whispered and he groaned “Sweetheart, baby please don't say that”
You looked up at him and he swallowed hard “I'm barely hanging on here” you leaned forward “Then let go” the moment his lips crashed into yours the heat roared back to life.
Everything in you was screaming that this was Dean, your best friend, your best friend who had never shown interest in you but it didn't matter because if you didn't do something for relief you'd die here in this elevator.
—-----------------
Dean grabbed your ankle and gave a tug, pulling you down onto your back where he could move to be between your legs. Hovering over you he took a few deep breath “Sweetheart” you shook your head “Shut up” 
—-----------
When you pulled him back into another kiss, hooking your legs around his waist Dean felt what resolve he had crumple. Whatever was happening it demanded you. It craved you and he was powerless to fight it.  His hands went to the hem of your shirt and you broke the kiss long enough to snatch it off and throw it. His lips went from yours, down your neck then he started to kiss down your chest “I need more Dean, fuck it hurts and I need more”
He knew what you meant. He was hurting. His cock was harder than it'd ever been and the fire, fuck the fire nipping through his body. He had to help you first, had to get you somewhat level headed. He nodded then lowered his lips to your stomach.
He used one hand to unsnap your jeans and then slipped it inside, he moaned into your skin at the feeling of the warm moisture he found seeping from your pussy. You were soaked and responsive to the point that a barely there flicker of his fingers made your back arch off the floor. “Please”
He freed your body of your boots and jeans faster than he'd ever undressed himself even. He took a moment to sit back on his heels and look at you. A brief moment of clarity telling him to stop this, he could handle the pain but what if you regretted him when this was over? “Dean it hurts please help me” you begged and that was all it took. He licked into you in one fluid motion and your fingers tangled in his hair “Yes, fuck Dean”
—------------
Dean began to work you towards an orgasm, flicking his tongue against your clit while he added a finger, curling it up to hit that spot inside of you. The pleasure began to push back against the pain and you found yourself unashamed as you ground your hips down against Dean's face. Your moans urged him on and when he shifted just slightly that blinding heat gave way to pleasure. He worked you through the orgasm and you could feel the pain roll back a bit.
When you became too sensitive you weakly shoved at his head. He pulled away and smiled up at you “Feeling better?” You nodded “Wanna take those jeans off?” His smile slipped into a grin “Yes ma'am”
—--------------
Dean slipped his jeans, shirt and boots off before tucking his shirt under your head as a makeshift pillow. Even if this was something pushing you two to do this he was going to make you as comfortable as possible. His hand shook slightly and he wasn't sure of the cause of it but you underneath him, all spread out and begging made that heat roar to life. 
He held your eyes as he slipped into you, both of you groaning at the feeling. Once he was fully inside of you he stilled, his muscles shaking with the urge to take you hard and fast. He could fight this enough to be gentle, to make it amazing for you. It was the only hope he had for you to not hate him when you were both clear headed.
Your eyes focused on him and you smiled “Fuck me Dean, please” he caught your lips in a hungry kiss “Oh sweetheart you're gonna be the death of me” 
—----------------
Dean buried his face in your neck as his thrusts got harder and deeper. You were so close to that edge you just needed a little more. Without you having to say anything Dean slipped a hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your back arched, pressing your breasts up into his chest as you came with a loud moan of his name. 
Once your vision cleared a bit you could feel Dean holding back. He needed to come, he needed that release from the heat, the pain. “Come for me Dean. Please” you begged, tightening your grip on his shoulders and spreading your legs further to give him deeper access.
You could feel his thrusts get harder and knew he was close. He pulled his face up to catch his lips in a kiss. You poured everything you'd always felt into the kiss, trying to tell him you'd wanted this for years that it wasn't just magical shit forcing the two of you to do this. You wanted Dean, you wanted to feel him come inside of you, you wanted to be his.
He groaned into your mouth as he slammed into you one final time and you felt him come filling you up.
—---------
You lay there for a few moments, Dean's now softening cock still inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. Both of your heads were cleared now, the effects having worn off. 
“Dean I..” your words were cut off by Dean's phone ringing. He pulled out of you gently before retrieving his phone. You could only hear his end which consisted of “Yeah we figured that out….just what it sounds like Sam…..what?...That's not..yeah ok…. I know….I know”
He hung up then looked at you where you were now slowly slipping back into your clothes. He did the same but when you started to tie your boots he knelt down and tied them for you. Neither of you had spoken the last few minutes.
When he stood up he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you “Sweetheart” yet again the two of you were interrupted by the elevator choosing that moment to start working again.
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You stayed in Dean's arms until you reached the tenth floor. You stepped off first and he watched you carefully. What was going through his head? What was going through yours? You'd figured out it was sex pollen. A few hunters had run across different variants but the cure was always to fuck it out your system. It was never meant to kill but would if you didn't give in.
You stepped off the elevator first and Dean walked off behind you. You headed for the conjoined rooms you, him and Sam had gotten. You could feel the heat from him at your back but this time it was a very human feeling.
—----------
You unlocked the door to your room and was about to step inside when Dean's hand grabbed your arm. You looked at him and he took a deep breath “That was..” “Sex pollen, I know. I know that's why that happened” 
He shook his head “No, sweetheart you don't. The pollen may have caused it but it wasn't just the pollen”
“What are you saying Dean?” You asked pulling your arm away from him to cross it over your other arm. “I'm saying I tried to hold off as long as I could because of how much I care about you, how long I've wanted to do that. I just, I hope you don't hate me now”
You shook your head “I couldn't hate you for us saving both our lives. I couldn't hate you for anything, I care about you way too much”  he half smiled “Care about me like you care about Sam or?” You cut him off by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 
You stepped back and shrugged “Care about you like if you want to try this between us for real I wouldn't be opposed to it” a grin slipped onto his face “I want you for a lot longer than a day or two” you returned his grin “Good cause it's gonna take a long time for me to get sick of you” 
Before you could say anything else Dean stepped closer and picked you up, his hands bracing under your thighs. You gasped lightly and he grinned “Sometimes witches aren't too bad I guess, if they got me you”  you laughed "Oh shut up and take me inside"
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heich0e · 2 months
Text
suna recently moved into a new place.
the building he's in now is much nicer than the last one he lived in, and in an even better part of town, too—it's a newly built place that's still only half-occupied, leaving him with so few neighbours on his floor that he claims sometimes it feels like he's got the whole building to himself.
living in a new-build (a half-build, technically, since there's still active construction happening in some of the units on other floors) presents its own unique challenges, though. since no one's ever lived in his unit before him, he's sort of like the guinea pig; the first to discover which of the design elements are functional and which aren't. like how the tap in his bathroom had accidentally been installed backwards, so the hot and cold water markers were switched—a realization he regrettably only came to after stepping into an ice cold shower for the first time.
or how the intercom system in the building isn't quite up and running yet, so every time he has guests over he has to come all the way down to the lobby to let them in himself.
"wow, what are the chances of running into you here?" rintarou drawls as he opens the building door for you, allowing you to step in out of the cool night outside.
pretty good, you'd wager, because he knew you were coming and had to be here to let you in.
you're too tired to make any sort of snarky remark though, shooting him a pointed look instead as you step past him in the doorway and into the lobby's warmth. coming to suna's place had been a last minute decision made late in the evening when a poorly-timed (or well-timed on his part) text landed in your inbox; you weren't dressed for the weather, but had been close enough to walk from the little bar where a few of your friends had gathered that evening.
"cold out?" he asks you as he lets the door swing shut, turning and following along behind you as you begin making your way towards the elevator.
"freezing," you reply, still holding your coat tightly around your frame. you're narrowly fighting back the way your teeth threaten to chatter.
"sorry, I came down as soon as you called to tell me you were on your way," rintarou frowns a little as he takes in the way you have your arms wrapped around yourself for warmth.
"no, i know," you wave off his concern, pressing the UP button on the panel next to the elevator in the lobby. "i should have called sooner but i didn't want to take my hands out of my pockets since it was so cold on the walk here."
you'd only fished your cellphone out of your pocket when the building was in sight a few metres down the road, preserving every little bit of warmth you could for as long as possible.
"you know, you wouldn't need to wait for me to let you in if you'd just let me give you a key fob."
the elevator doors slide open to take you both up to rintarou's floor, and your glance over at him from the corner of your eye as the two of you step inside.
you don't want one of suna's key fobs. firstly because he'd already broken the only spare he had thanks (indirectly) to you—having once tried to toss it down from his third floor balcony while you were waiting out front in the middle of the night. it had landed on the pavement underfoot and shattered into approximately a million pieces—leaving him down to only the one connected to his own key ring. he'd told you it really wasn't that expensive to get his building manager to replace it, but you'd vehemently spurned the suggestion, which brings you to the second point—
having a key to rintarou's place (however temporary) just feels too... serious.
too serious for you and him, and whatever this decidedly unserious thing between you is, anyway.
"who's to say you won't destroy that one too?" you brush off his suggestion as the elevator doors slide closed.
the inside of the elevator still has those thick, padded blankets hanging up to protect the mirrored walls while they finish construction, and still have people constantly moving boxes and furniture and whatever else into the vacant units units. it makes the already confined space feel even smaller, and you try to ignore it as suna presses the button for his floor on the panel off to the side of the doors.
"fine, freeze then," rintarou shrugs, but you can feel his eyes on the side of your face.
"the cold wasn't even the bad part," you sigh, wincing a little as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. "i haven't worn these boots out before and my feet are killing me."
suna glances down at your feet, taking in the knee high boots you have on your feet.
"oh," he says, his tone a bit different now in a way that makes you look at him suspiciously. "those are nice."
"you're such a freak," you laugh under your breath and he peeks up at you without a hint of guilt on his face.
"i mean it," he insists.
"i know you do," you snort.
the elevator dips slightly as it arrives to rintarou's floor, and it makes you wobble a bit unsteadily. rintarou wraps his arm around your waist to steady you without missing a beat.
"they really hurt that bad?" he asks, peering down at you curiously.
from this close you can see just how unfairly long his eyelashes are, and how they flutter as he blinks down at you. you hate how nice it is to feel his warmth seeping into you when he holds you like this. you hate the thought of him stepping away again even more.
"yeah, it's my own fault though," you answer quietly.
the elevator doors slide open, and you move to step out, but rintarou rushes ahead of you. you watch, confused, as he crouches down just on the other side of the threshold of the sliding doors.
"really?" you ask him with a laugh, rolling your eyes as he waits for you to climb up on his back.
but it's late, and you're tired, and your feet hurt.
(and you really like how warm he is, even if you'll never say it.)
so you carefully hop on, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, and let him carry you off in the direction of his apartment—endlessly grateful for how few units on his floor are leased, and therefore how your chances of running into anyone in your current state are lowered.
you can only see the slightest bit of rintarou's profile while he carries you like this, but you can tell even from the glimpse you get that he's looking awfully smug as he carries you to his door.
"don't look so pleased with yourself," you mutter, squeezing your legs a bit tighter around his waist in warning.
rintarou's hands slip down from where he was loosely holding you behind your knees until they grasp your thighs and the leather upper of your boots.
"these really are nice you know," suna remarks quietly, his thumbs brushing along some of the stitching at the sides.
"i'm not keeping them on in bed," you warn him flatly, his apartment door now in sight at the other end of the hall.
"why not?" suna sounds so plaintive it almost makes you laugh. his grip slips all the way down to your ankles now. "it's not like they can hurt your feet while you'll be on your back, anyway."
"rintarou!" you hiss, slapping one of your hands over his mouth to shut him up, scandalized at what he's said in the middle of the hallway—lack of neighbours or not.
you feel his lips spread in an obnoxious grin under your palm, but you don't dare pull it away.
"keep it up and you're getting thrown off the balcony next, pervert."
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satoru-is-the-way · 4 months
Note
HI I SAW YOUR POST! Can I request a Alastor x reader where reader is easily flustered and Alastor just loves that. so every chance he gets he will do some flirty stuff (twirling, ear whispers, ect) bonuses points if reader gets backed up against the wall... K THANKS BYE!
HH/HB Master List
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A/N: MY FIRST Hazbin request!! Oh I love Alastor so much!! I hope you like it! I have more requests to come with him and more characters!!
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Prompt: Can I request a Alastor x reader where reader is easily flustered and Alastor just loves that. so every chance he gets he will do some flirty stuff (twirling, ear whispers, ect) bonuses points if reader gets backed up against the wall...
Warning: Suggestive Themes
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The Radio Demon had many hobbies he enjoyed beyond the regularly scheduled broadcasts. A new one developed meeting (Y/n) (L/n). It was his little game now teasing this little demon. She had decided to visit the hotel after the previous extermination day. The fight between heaven and this odd bunch of sinners sparked an interest in the overall vision of redemption.
The first few days (Y/n) caught glimpses of the famous Overlord who managed the Hazbin Hotel. She could not deny her curiosity about Alastor was more than an innocent one. His power attracted (Y/n) and Alastor is no fool noticing her attention in the first few interactions. It thrilled Alastor in his ability to fluster this sinner with a simple glance.
As time passed more physical contact was added to his teasing. A brush of his hand, a whisper in her ear, or more boldly gripping (Y/n)’s hips making the excuse she is in the way of his path. Today he decided to visit the lobby where his favorite toy is ordering a mixed drink at the bar.
(Y/n) took a seat leaning against the bar speaking with Husk about random things when she noticed a tall figure heading towards her. (Y/n)’s eyes slowly tranced up Alastor’s body from head to toe. A noticeable dust of red coats the demon's cheeks.
“Find my body interesting?” Alastor grins unable to hold such flirtatious comments back since it pulled a delicious reaction from (Y/n). The poor woman became a stuttering mess being caught shamelessly undressing the Radio Demon with her eyes. “I would let you take a picture but we both know this face was made for radio only.” He sat down waving Husk to make the usual drink.
“I-I was not looking at you, Alastor. You are getting a little cocky aren't you?” She replied weakly. Alastor chuckled leaning closer and brushing a few strands of hair out of (Y/n)'s face. He pressed his fingers under her chin and lifted her head.
“We both know that's a lie. You love what I have to offer.” He leans in feeling her body tense. “Oh calm down, darling. You are more than welcome to touch me. Anywhere your naughty little fingers can grasp. But some areas may require two hands being...extra large.”
She gulps feeling her entire body temperature rise, her heart wildly thumps against her chest, and the poor sinner's face matches Alastor’s crimson-red theme. “S-Shut up. I…How big are-” (Y/n) quickly stood her imagination running ramped with thoughts of Alastor’s body and what exactly he meant by some parts are larger… “I-I have to go! I think I hear Charlie calling me.” She made a quick dash towards the hall planning to take the elevator to her room.
Unfortunately Alastor did not plan on letting that happen. A squeal escaped her lips suddenly being spun around pressed against the wall. “A-Alastor.” She whispered her back pressed against the wall his chest pressed against hers. There was no escape from him. Alastor placed both hands on either side of (Y/n)’s head. He grinned those eyes held such a lustful gaze.
“Yes? Can I help you with something cutie?” He purres bitting at (Y/n)’s ear pulling a whine of pleasure out. “Oh, what an exquisite sound. Let's see how many more I can earn.” He purred kissing up her neck.
“F-Fuck.” She groaned and gripped his arm. Alastor earned many more sounds from her all night long…
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bubble-dream-inc · 1 year
Text
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one kiss (is all it takes)
At first, you regretted agreeing to going to the game with the boys. Turns out a hockey game can be a lot more interesting than you thought.
Or; You and Price get caught on a Kiss Cam.
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
rbs greatly appreciated!
WC: 1.5K
a/n: i have no idea how a hockey game - or the military - works. anyways. this was written in an hour, is barely edited and not beta read lmao
tags: just pure fluff and Soap being a smug lil bastard :))
Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, accepting that yes, you did look as tired as you felt, but at that point you had no choice but to make your peace with it and try your hardest to rock those dark eye circles. At least you supposed your outfit looked presentable enough, since even if you were incredibly tired, you still felt like putting some effort into your appearance, telling yourself it was for no particular reason - or person - at all.
It had happened a couple of hours before. Sitting inside the bar across the street from the dingy hotel you and your teammates were staying after a successful recon mission, Soap and Gaz had disappeared for some time, returning later with a couple of tickets to a local hockey game. You found it best not to question how they got those, and, to be honest, you never pegged either of them to be into hockey, much like yourself, but Soap seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were not looking forward to it one bit. Admittedly, you suspected the same thing happened with Price, who accepted the invitation somewhat hesitantly - you knew north american sports weren’t really his thing - and you admired Ghost for just saying ‘no’ to Soap’s face before returning to his cup of bourbon without another word. So that led you to where you stood at the moment, regretting falling into Soap’s trap and longing for your hotel bed that looked oh so comfortable. A knock on your door took you out of your reverie. Opening it, you found the devil himself standing outside with a smirk on his face.
“Hey, L.t. Ready to go?”  You rolled your eyes playfully at Soap’s nickname for your rank, humming in response while you fetched whatever you needed to go out from your room - making sure to grab a coat. 
Gaz and Price were already at the end of the corridor, waiting for the elevator, and, after greeting them both with a wave of your hand and a smile, you had to pretend to be very interested in the instructions written on the fire extinguisher by the wall to avoid gawking at your superior. It wasn’t often you got to see Price out of tactical gear and without his beloved boonie hat, and the sight of him in a basic and slightly too tight t-shirt under his jacket was doing things to you. Being pushed close to him in the impossibly small elevator once it arrived, too cramped for four soldiers to fit comfortably into, did not help you in the slightest. 
A short car ride later - and somewhat silent, since Soap had lost his aux cord privileges after the last time - you stood in front of the arena, swerving your way between the other attendees, except clearly less excited to be there. As the four of you looked for your seats, you wondered how long it would take for them to notice if you bolted to go back to the hotel and sleep, but decided against it. Soap and Gaz took the first two seats side by side, leaving you to sit at the other end, with Price on your left, and you found it both a blessing and a curse. As he removed his coat, clearly feeling too warm with the amount of people around, and left his bulky (and hairy) arms visible to the world, you decided it was more of a blessing. Not feeling like committing an HR violation, you scolded yourself to stop ogling at your unaware superior, too lost in your musings to realize he was side eyeing you with a knowing smirk. 
The first period flew by. You had no idea what were the teams names, you just know they were currently sitting at 1x0 when the first intermission rolled around, and, surprisingly, you were having a lot of fun. The crowd’s high energy and Soap’s enthusiastic cheering - even though he had said in the car he had no idea who was playing - was enough to make you momentarily forget how tired you were from the mission, and the fact it happened altogether. It was very rarely you got to enjoy some down time with your teammates, and that alone made you feel glad you accepted Johnny’s invitation.
Checking the time on your phone, you started scrolling through the various notifications, getting so immersed in the screen that you didn’t notice the way people around you were suddenly staring in your direction. Feeling observed, you looked up to the sight of people hollering and cheering around you, and, for some reason, Soap was angling his body out of his seat to look smugly at you, to which you only replied with a quizzical arch of your brow, receiving a nod upwards in response. Looking at the direction he nodded, you realized the huge screen in the middle of the stadium now displayed a banner written “Kiss cam.” 
Directly under a live feed of you and Price. 
That definitely could not be happening. 
Your blood froze, and you felt like you were both on fire and ice cold at the same time, trying to process what was going on in seconds. Instantly your brain conjured images of you watching with a side eye as Price rejected you publicly to the camera, probably sneering and making a “cut it out” motion with his hand, as if kissing you was something incredibly unimaginable. However, none of those visions came true, since, when you gathered the courage to actually look over to him - with what you imagined was a very wide eyed and flustered expression - he was actually calmly chuckling and smiling with that damn good looking smile of his. Looking this closely you could swear you saw a faint hint of red on his face as he turned to you with a very gentle gaze, clearly considering the idea and giving you a silent chance to back away if you didn’t feel comfortable with it. Of course, you knew that you would never even dream of shying away from an opportunity to kiss your very attractive Captain who you absolutely did not have a huge crush on, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. 
So, seeing no resistance from you, he leaned in closer and brought one of his huge hands to rest delicately holding your face, as if you were made of glass, and you felt like your heart stopped beating. Up close like this he smelled faintly of the cigar he liked to smoke and cologne he must have put on when you returned from the bar to get ready to leave for the game, and his blue eyes never looked so intense. You saw him smirk when you leaned in to meet him halfway before letting your eyes flutter close and your lips finally meet.
Kissing Captain Price was even better than you imagined. His mustache tickled your top lip and, in the background, you could hear the cheering of the crowd - particularly Soap’s hollers and someone, who you imagined was Gaz, wolf whistling - but you drowned it all to focus on the feeling of John’s lips moving against yours in a kiss that lasted a second, but felt like an hour inside your head. As you expected it, he did taste exactly like the cigar he smelled as, and a hint of mouthwash, and you found yourself embarrassingly sighing into the kiss. 
You decided you could spend a good few hours just kissing your Captain, but any second longer would be positively awkward for your audience, so, regrettably, you broke the kiss, almost going insane by the way he chuckled lowly against you before leaning back as well, giving the camera an uncharacteristic almost bashful smile. So much for not committing that HR violation. You didn’t find the courage to look anywhere, much less the damn camera, so you pathetically stared at your shoes instead, very aware of the way your face felt like a thousand degrees and you must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Distantly, you felt Soap’s eyes on you, burning holes in your face with what you imagined must have been the smuggest smile ever, but you didn’t turn to confirm your suspicions. 
Within seconds, the kiss cam had moved on, as well as the entire crowd, and you were the only one still dwelling on it as everyone cheered on another couple put on display. Trying to convince yourself it meant nothing, you shook your head and tried to pay attention to what was going on in the arena, something cut short when John Price himself discreetly leaned over for your ear, not turning his body or taking his eyes off the screen above you.
“You know,” He started above a whisper with his deep, gruffy voice. “If I knew you were such a good kisser, I’d have done this a lot sooner.”
With that, he leaned back into his seat, hand crossed above his stomach and a satisfied smirk on his face as he pretended not to notice the way you stared at him with wide eyes and your mouth gaping open like a fish.
That was going to be one long hockey game.
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Neighbors 🩵 Lovers
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Part Two
She combed through her closet while wearing her favorite grey robe, body glistening from the white peach and orange blossom body oil she put on. She pondered with a crease in her brow over two items before grabbing a pair of cream-colored pants and a cropped brown top. After getting dressed, Fae put on a faux leather jacket and some platform Uggs. She completed the look with a silver chunky chain necklace and silver chandelier earrings.
Grabbing her gifted bag and her keys, Fae left her room. She halted her footsteps in the dimly lit hall. Fae exhaled slowly and walked out into the living room. Cordell had just finished grading papers with a football game on in the background. He looked up and gave Fae a questioning look. She walked over to him and did a little twirl to show off her outfit.
“What do you think?” Fae looked down at herself and back at Cordell.
“Cute. Have fun.” Cordell said with a small smile.
“I will. Hey…I may be out a little late. Just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t get worried.”
Cordell gave Fae a one shouldered shrug before standing and making his way towards her.
“Just text me so I know you’re alright, Fae. Don’t drink too much.”
“I promise. Don’t forget to feed Deuce.”
Cordell kissed Fae softly on the lips. Fae turned to leave and the minute she shut the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath. She made it perfectly clear to Erik that this wasn’t a date, but she took a lot of time to make sure she looked presentable around him. Fae rode the elevator down to the lobby and left the building, waiting to walk across the street.
Putting up her hand a a thank you to a taxi driver, she jogged across the street, the wind rustling her sleek hair into her face. Fae smoothed her hair behind her ears as best as she could while looking up at the signs to make sure she wouldn’t miss it. She strolled past a bodega, then a barbershop, a small pizza parlor, and finally, Haymaker Bar and Kitchen.
Fae slipped past a couple sharing a cigarette outside and opened the door. Instantly, she was enveloped in warmth. It was an intimate setting with a low ambiance. She removed her jacket and searched with her brown eyes from left to right. The further she made her way into the bar, Fae finally found him sitting in a corner booth with a few empty glasses in front of him. He wore a plaid jacket, a white T-shirt, and black cargo pants. She couldn’t see his feet until she was two booths down from him. He wore a pair of all white Nike blazers.
Fae noticed a minimal amount of jewelry— diamond studs, a gold chain—and he had on those gold-rimmed glasses again. As if he could feel her presence, Erik looked up and smirked. She waved and he stood up to greet her. Erik startled Fae by pulling her into a two-armed hug. She felt so tiny ragainst him. Her cheek pressed against his chest, directly over his heartbeat. She turned her cheek a little, the soft fabric of his T-shirt against her nose now. Fae took a quick whiff of his cologne and it smelled like spicy vanilla.
Erik released her and instantly she felt cold standing there. Fae awkwardly scooted into the booth the same time Erik did. She sat her jacket next to her and folded her arms on the table, looking around the bar. Anywhere but meeting his penetrating gaze. A waiter slipped over; a young Caucasian girl with a blonde Bob and big, doe forest green eyes.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Uhm, a lemon drop martini.”
“Okay. Another rum for you, sir?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
The waiter removed the used glasses and rushed off to the bar, almost knocking into a coworker with a tray of beer.
“It’s busier in here than usual. Must be a special occasion.” Erik said.
Fae noticed a sign on the wall.
“Looks like it’s trivia night.” Fae pointed to the wall.
Erik nodded his head, “Friends trivia. Never watched that show.”
“I did. I prefer Living Single.”
“Yes, I used to love that show,” Erik cracked a smile, “the entire vibe of that sitcom was cool.”
“Do you watch a lot of TV?” Fae asked.
Erik’s eyes looked mahogany beneath the light.
“Not really. Unless it’s sports or a movie. I’m usually reading or listening to music most of the time.”
The waiter returned with their drinks. Fae took a sip of her martini. Erik drank half of his glass of rum down. Erik caught Fae’s eye and they smiled at each other.
“How was work?” Erik asked.
“It was okay. Friday’s are always the slowest for me. I kept looking at that clock ready to go.” Fae giggled.
She drank more of her martini.
“I have two more weeks until it’s time for me to get back to work. Not looking forward to it.” Erik responded.
“Why?”
“Because I made a new friend that I won’t see for a while,” Erik’s lips slowly formed into a handsome, dimpled smile.
“Who? Me?” Fae questioned with faux surprise, a hand to her chest.
“No, Deuce.” Erik’s shoulders bounced with laughter at her scowl, “You’re too pretty. You’re mean faces just make you look adorable.”
Erik licked his lips and Fae rolled her eyes, giving him a dismissive wave of her hand.
“How many of those did you have, Erik?”
Erik chuckled, “Not enough to put me on my ass.”
Fae ran her fingers through her hair, twirling the ends. She looked at Erik out of the corner of her eye.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
Erik’s shoulders tensed. He leaned forward against the table with his arms and rubbed his hands together in deep thought. That happiness in her was sure to go dark after what he was about to say.
“Maybe you should have one more drink before I say what I have to say.”
Fae chewed on her bottom lip nervously. She gave him a look with confusion.
“Erik, what’s going on?”
The panic in her voice made his chest feel tight. He let out a breath and looked her dead in the eyes. Fae held his gaze, her eyelids fluttering slightly.
“Fae…Cordell is cheating on you.”
———
Fae cocked her head back, staring at Erik with a scrunch of her brows. He could see her chest moving up and down from her rapid breaths. She looked as if she didn’t believe a word Erik just said. She set her palms down flat on the table like she was trying to steady herself.
He’d been going over and over in his head of how he was going to tell her. He knew telling her in person was the best option, but to witness the hurt in her eyes, he wasn’t prepared for that. What was the next step? All he could do was lay it all out on the table.
“Another drink or…? Are you guys good?”
The waiter startled them. Fae fidgeted in her seat and Erik could feel her foot jiggling beneath the table against his. He’d definitely triggered something. Fae seemed to shrank into her seat like she felt small.
“Another round for the both of us please.” Erik said.
When they were alone again, Fae looked up at Erik through her lashes.
“I saw him with another woman, Fae. The same day we went to the dog park. I was coming back from the gym and I saw him on the elevator all hugged up with another woman. Got off the elevator and something told me to look. They were going inside of your apartment.”
Fae turned away. Erik slouched in his seat.
“Fae?” Erik tried to catch her eye, “Say something.”
Fae shook her head slowly, “I don’t even know where to start,” She looked up at Erik with glossy eyes, “I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.”
Fae covered her face with her hands, head shaking and then came the sniffles. Erik was frozen. He looked around the bar and then back at Fae before reaching across the table to rub her arm affectionately. As soon as his fingertips touched her, she quietly weeped.
Erik’s jaw tightened and he shut his eyes. He felt obligated to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. The woman he’d only known for two weeks has him feeling this way. Like he needed to protect her. Like he needed to rearrange Cordell’s face.
“Fae, I’m so sorry,” Erik said with a soothing tone of voice.
“Fae finally uncovered her face, eyes puffy and cheeks wet, “You don’t have to apologize, Erik. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t want to make you cry, Fae. I feel like a piece of shit.”
Fae grabbed a napkin and dabbed her cheeks, “I’ll be right back.”
She stood up and walked towards the restrooms. The waiter returned with their drinks. Erik ordered some shots—two each—and closed his tab. Fae was gonna need it. She was probably bawling her eyes out. Erik shook his head and blew air out his cheeks. He massaged the back of his neck, looking up to see Fae leaving the restroom and heading towards him.
She slipped into the booth seat with sad eyes. They sat in silence for a while. Fae kept her eyes in her lap while Erik watched her. She finally looked up and over at Erik.
“Is it me?” She said, “Why does this keep happening to me?”
Erik shook his head, “It’s not you, it’s him, Fae. You did nothing wrong.” Erik reassured her.
“Am I not good enough?” She let out a harsh breath, “Why can’t a man just treat me right? Why do I always have to get my heart torn in pieces?”
She rubbed her nose, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Suddenly, Erik reached across the table and wiped her tear away with his knuckle. Fae gasped at his sudden touch but relaxed when she realized what he was doing.
“I guess this is what I should expect.”
“No,” Erik spoke sternly, “Don’t settle for that. You’re better than that. He didn’t deserve you. He should be the one crying. Stop wasting your tears on that nigga. I see a woman who’s too good and too rare to be in these situations.”
Fae’s eyes lingered on Erik for a while. It was as if she were seeing him for the first time. Erik genuinely meant every single word. Would he love a chance with Fae? Absolutely. Would he love to catch Cordell slacking and break every bone in his fucking body? Definitely. He’d give anything to hurt him.
“Thank you,” She said with a soft voice, “You didn’t have to make it your business to let me know about it. I appreciate you for telling me upfront and not turning a blind eye. You’re really one of the good ones, Erik.”
Fae gave him a weak smile before pulling her eyes away, wiping more of her tears.
“You’re welcome, Fae.”
Fae looked at the drinks on the table and let out a tired laugh, “This for me?”
“Figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“Hell no,” Fae picked up one of the shots, “I need a pick-me-up.”
“Well then let’s toast,” Erik raised his shot glass, “To heathy relationships and happiness in the near future.”
Fae put on a forced smile, clinking shot glasses with Erik.
“I think I need to be alone for a while. No man deserves what I have to offer. They gotta prove it to me.”
They threw their shots back at the same time. Erik bobbed his head and tilted it in agreement.
“You are one of a kind.”
Fae giggled.
“One more,”. She picked it up, “I’m feeling it already.”
“Good,” Erik raised his glass.
They knocked it back and in unison they slammed the glasses on the table.
“Whew!”
“Shit,” Erik screwed up his face.
“Still have this lemon drop.”
“You got it,” Erik motioned towards the martini.
He watched her drink the martini with a smirk. He could see a flush creeping up her face. She was definitely leaving there drunk.
“I would just love it if he could feel how it feels to be cheated on. If it was me, he would be crying like a big baby.”
“He wouldn’t know how to handle it.” Erik said.
“He already couldn’t handle the way you complimented me that day. He was so pissed off.”
Fae laughed and Erik simply admired her.
“Imagine what he would have done if I took you to dinner myself.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up with a blush.
“I can see him now, making a whole lot of noise,” Fae rolled her eyes.
Fae sat bad into her seat.
“Where am I gonna go? I can’t face him tonight.”
Erik sipped from his glass.
“No friends close by?”
“Sort of. But it’s so last minute. Ugh,” Fae crinkled her nose, “And I’m drunk. I really don’t want to cause a scene. If I see him right now…”
She glared.
Erik sat his drink down and leaned in to speak to her closer from across the table. He had an idea, but would she be down? She would probably think he had ulterior motives. Erik’s eyes bore into hers.
“What if you stayed at my place tonight?”
Fae scrutinized him.
“It’s all up to you. Just…here to help. I promise I’ll behave.”
Fae laughed and Erik cracked a smile.
“Why not?” Fae exhaled a shaky breath, “It’s only next door, right?”
Erik fought to contain his excitement. He gave her a once over before wagging his brows.
“Fine. I guess I’m crashing at your place tonight.”
“I guess so.” Erik said.
_____
“I’m probably so heavy!”
Fae giggled uncontrollably. Erik put her down in the apartment lobby, holding her up by the waist when she started to sway. Tears shone in her eyes from laughing so hard. Erik could do nothing but smile and shake his head. He pressed the button for the elevator while Fae clung to his waist with her arms wrapped around him.
“You’re so strong!” She spoke loudly.
Erik picked her up with one arm around her waist so that she wouldn’t trip over her own feet. He pressed button thirteen and Fae slipped from his arm and stood on wobbly legs. His brows knitted as he watched her adjust her bra.
“Please tell me you have something I can sleep in, Erik.”
“Of course I do,” Erik held out his arm, “Come on.”
Fae took his arm and Erik led the way to his apartment. Fae took one look back at her place with a hardened expression. Erik retrieved his keys and opened the door, quickly guiding Fae inside.
“Wow, so minimalistic.”
Diesel came running out from a back room and he leaped onto Fae, barking excitedly in her face.
“Aww, he remembers me?!” Fae’s face brightened.
“Guess he really likes you.” Erik said.
Diesel wouldn’t leave Fae alone.
“Aye, back up,” Erik ordered Diesel.
He clapped his hands and Diesel sprinted back into the room. Fae chuckled nervously, walking further into Erik’s apartment.
Erik balanced himself against the wall and took off his shoes one by one, “You can keep your shoes here,” Erik pointed to a show rack, “And I’ll take your jacket to hang it up for you.”
Fae took off her boots while Erik approached Fae from behind and helped her slip out of her Jacket. She looked up at him over her shoulder with a small smile. Erik returns the smile and walked away.
“So…where do I sleep?” Fae asked with uncertainty in her voice.
Erik still had his back to her while taking off his jacket to put away. Fae’s brown eyes tracked his every move. The way his back muscles flexed beneath his shirt. His built arms and well-knit torso that she memorized from all of his shirtless gym photos. Erik looked back at her over his shoulder and her eyes darted away to look at the ceiling. The light fixture seemed to catch her interest.
“I have a guest bed. If that’s okay with you?”
Fae bounced back and forth on her toes awkwardly, “That’s fine. Thanks Erik.”
“Any time. Better here than over there with him, right?”
Fae didn’t respond. Erik turned around and caught her wiping away more tears.
“Hey,” Erik walked up to her, “No more crying.”
Fae sniffled, “I’m trying. What if…what if she’s with him right now?”
Erik’s tongue rested on his top lip deep in thought. He shrugged and his eyes met hers.
“Only way to find out is to listen, right?” Fae questioned.
“The walls aren’t that thin, Fae. I can’t hear nothing from neither one of y’all unless you’re screaming at the top of your lungs.” Erik said with a hint of playfulness.
He suddenly had a eureka moment.
“Unless,” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, “I have a ring surveillance camera outside my door.”
Fae went very still. Her eyes were veiled with intensity. Erik went to the app on his phone for his surveillance and found movement outside of his door almost an hour ago. He clicked on the video and right there, looking guilty, was Cordell with a different woman this time. This one was a Latina with gold hoops in her ears.
“What is it?” Fae made her way over to Erik, “Do you see him?”
Erik just handed the phone to Fae. He stood there, watching her reaction. She stared at the phone intently before passing it back to Erik and walking away.
“Where I lay my fucking head, though?!”
She threw her hands up and paced back and forth angrily.
“I gave this man everything! I thought he loved me!”
Erik just stood there. He let her vent.
“How could you disrespect me like that and bring not one, but two bitches into my apartment to fuck?!”
“Because he doesn’t respect you. No man that loves and respects his woman would do some shit like that. And this is coming from a man. I know.”
Erik followed Fae into his living room. She flopped down on his black leather sofa with defeat. She leaned back into the couch, body slumped and her cropped shirt revealing her stomach more. Erik’s eyes swept over her caramel skin as he took a seat next to her.
“Why do men stick around if they don’t wanna be with the woman?” Fae questioned.
“Because of what it provides for him at the moment. Financial stability, the fact that she’s catering to him, or it could be the convenience of having someone around.”
Fae kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes, “I should know. I’ve been cheated on more than once.”
Erik couldn’t believe it. She had it all. I guess it didn’t matter how much of an amazing woman you are.
“They didn’t deserve you, Fae. For real.”
Fae blushed.
“My problem is, I like them a little rough around the edges. Should I go for a different type?”
“Yeah, a man that will love on you and treat you like a princess. Even when shit gets rough.” Erik said.
“So what about you then?”
Erik looked at Fae. He sat up straighter on the couch, his inner thoughts wondering if she meant what he thought she meant.
“Uh…?”
“Are you that good guy type? Why are you single?”
Erik’s eyes blinked away.
“I just ain’t find the right one.”
“Hm,” Fae raised a brow.
What Fae didn’t know, was that Erik is most definitely rough. Rougher and tougher than any man she’d ever been with. It’s more than muscles, it’s skill. He’s a trained killing machine. Killmonger. He had the stats to prove it.
“What? You got somebody in mind?”
Erik sized her up.
Fae gave him a once-over, “And if I did, what would you do about it?”
“I’d see what’s up. Show her what I can do.”
Fae observed him with those gorgeous brown eyes of hers. He allowed his eyes to fall to her lips. Fae turned away and stood up, fixing her pants with a wiggle of her hips and a bounce of her booty.
“I need some water.” She spoke with a shaky voice.
“I gotchu,” Erik lifted himself from the couch.
Fae followed him into the kitchen and she peeked into a small room that looked like an office where Diesel was sleeping. Erik opened his fridge and Fae was amazed by how clean and organized it was. He grabbed a bottled water and she accepted it. They stood in the kitchen, drinking water with the only light being that coming from the stove.
“I just want him to know how it feels to be hurt, you know? Like, how would he like it if I was fucking some man behind his back? Lying and saying I’m going out with friends just so I can sneak off with a man who fucks me better and has more money—”
Fae stopped herself and Erik cracked up. She took another sip of water.
“I’m just blowing steam, don’t mind me!”
“Nah, nah, keep going,” Erik motioned for her to continue while propping his arms up on the kitchen island, “So, you were saying? A man that can fuck you better and spoil you?”
“Y-yes,” Fae exhaled a shaky breath, “I mean, this gift ain’t shit to me anymore. I just wanna throw it in his face.”
Fae held up her small Louis Vuitton bag.
Erik scuffed.
“Probably a fake too.”
Fae gawked at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Erik said between laughs, “It’s probably not–I mean–why would he give you a fake? psst, forget I said anything. It’s the thought that counts, right?”
Fae blinked at Erik liked she’d been neuralyzed.
__________
“You only worn it twice…doesn’t look light like authentic bags would when you first purchase them…”
Erik looked from the bag to his phone. Fae nibbled on her lip anxiously. They were back in his living room with music on in the background. Fae was sitting Indian-style on the floor and Erik was sitting on the couch. He scrolled through his phone and read the words with his eyes.
“The lettering…the gold stamping does look off…”
“Just tell me it’s fake,” Fae rolled her eyes.
“It’s fake.”
Erik sat the bag down on the table.
“At least I think it is.”
“He had an authentic box.” Fae said.
“You can buy empty designer boxes online, baby girl. That’s probably what he was waiting for. To dress it up and make it look authentic.”
Fae sighs, “I should have known. I guess I just expected him to really show out this time around.”
“Dell!”
“Fae and Erik’s eyes slowly connected.
“That was a scream.” Erik said.
Fae laughed. She fell back against Erik’s throw rug and rolled around on the floor laughing.
“What if I just walked right in the door?!”
Fae picked herself up off of the floor and stormed to Erik’s door. Erik shot up from the couch and sprinted over to her, slamming his door shut before she could even get out.
“Move Erik!” Fae shouted.
“No.”
Fae tried pushing him but it was like pushing a brick wall.
“Do you want to get yourself thrown out of here?! If you go over there it’s gonna be ugly.”
“It already is ugly! He’s cheating on me! Right now!”
Fae couldn’t leave if she wanted to. Erik was 6’3, 225 lbs of muscle. She was trapped.
“You finished? Listen, Just wait until tomorrow morning. You have the receipts, you have my word, he’s done.”
Fae tried to settle her breathing. She smoothed her long hair out of her face and walked away with her hands on her hips. Erik locked his door and kept a close eye on Fae. She sat back down on the floor and covered her face with her hands, crying again.
“I’m so stupid! I’m so stupid!”
“Stop saying that shit,” Erik joined her on the floor. He crawled closer to her, “You’re not stupid, Fae.”
Erik pulled Fae into his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
“I just want him to feel how hurt I feel…”
Erik caressed her arm. Fae tilted her head back to look at Erik. They locked eyes and something seemed to shift between them. Fae’s lips parted slightly and her half-lidded eyes were inviting him to kiss her. Erik took his hand and smoothed it over her hair.
“Erik,” Fae’s eyes dropped, “That feels good…”
She was falling asleep in his lap. Erik reached his hand over his coffee table to check the time. It was 1 AM. When he looked down at again, her eyes were shut.
“Fae,” Erik tapped her, “C’mon, I’m gonna put you to bed.”
“Huh?” Fae’s eyes opened gently.
“C’mon.”
Erik picked her up bridal-style and walked with her in his arms to his guest room. He placed Fae onto the bed and she immediately sat up. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned.
“I’m sorry, all that crying and shouting got me worn out.”
“I’ll be back with a shirt and some shorts.”
Erik left Fae alone and Diesel walked past the room, following Erik. She stood up from the queen sized bed and walked around the room until she was standing in front of one of the windows. She pressed her hand against the cool glass and looked out across the cityscape.
“I grabbed your bag and your phone…”
Fae turned around and saw Erik sitting her things on a bedside table and a folded white T-shirt with navy blue ball shorts on the bed. Fae wandered over to him and grabbed her sleep clothes. Erik stood with his arms stretched out, bracing himself in the doorway.
“There’s a spare bathroom here in the hall right next door. I keep toothpaste, floss, tongue scrapper, tooth brushes, all of that. If you wanna shower I have some soap and spare wash cloths and towels on the shelf in there.”
Erik smirked at her. Fae walked towards the door and stopped in front of Erik. He tilted her chin up at him and Fae got butterflies.
“Get some sleep. Try not to think about it. Okay?”
“Thank you again.” Fae said.
“No problem. It was the right thing to do.”
They continued to stare at each other.
“Good night, Erik.” Fae twisted her lips to fight a smile.
“Sweet dreams, Fae. I’ll shut this so Diesel doesn’t come in bothering you.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Trust me, you’ll want this shut.”
Erik grabbed the knob and as he was closing the door, he gave Fae one final wave goodbye before shutting it completely.
Fae undressed quickly and went without her bra beneath the shirt. She found a hair tie in her bag and thanked the heavens that Erik had satin pillowcases. She sat back on her phone for a while, the room bathed in darkness, deleting all traces of Cordell from her phone. She could hear Diesel pacing back and forth in front of her door and realized she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet.
Fae climbed out of bed and placed her phone on the charger before opening the door softly. She peered out into the hall, Diesel now in the living room curled up on the floor. She walked out and noticed that Erik’s door was cracked. Probably from Diesel walking out of the room. She found the bathroom and brushed her teeth. After flossing and using mouth rinse, Fae used some of Erik’s Cerave facial lotion and turned off the light.
She went back to her room and cracked the door. She tiptoed to bed and crawled beneath the sheets. Fae couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned for almost an hour. All she kept thinking about was Cordell and what was next between them. Obviously she was going to leave him, but then he would have to move out, and she would have to tell her friends and family.
Frustrated, fae sat up and grabbed her phone again. She went to Twitter to just scroll aimlessly and try to get her mind off of Cordell. Her thoughts drifted to Erik again and she couldn’t be happier that he came into her life and at the right time. Like a guardian Angel. She found herself on his instagram again, looking at his photos, lusting over how fine he is.
The way he blocked her from leaving his apartment turned her on. Fae has a size kink and he was just the right amount of tall and build. There were a few times that evening where she thought they were going to kiss. She would have embraced it to be honest. His tongue down hee throat and his plump lips against hers. Thoughts of Erik led her back to the dark side of Twitter and to his likes.
He had new ones.
Fae scrolled through and found herself wet and horny in his guest bed. Post after post after post.
She couldn’t escape it. Each post was enough to make you get yourself off. Could she do that in his own bed? He was practically sleeping next door. Fae can’t keep quiet when masturbating to save her life. Was doggy his favorite position? Did he ever think about putting her in those positions? How big is it? Could he really eat pussy? Could he talk you through it?
If he was the complete package, imagine how Cordell would feel if Fae ever gave in and let Erik hit. He already hated him. He would probably piss himself if he found out he took his woman. That would be the ultimate lick-back. And he was her neighbor. Getting slutted-out by her neighbor while her cheating ass boyfriend graded papers all night long. While he’s doing his dirt, Fae would be too. She wanted revenge and she wanted to be petty about it. Fuck feelings.
Fae sat up and she could feel the wetness of her panties. She needed some water. There was no way she could sleep in this sweat with rock hard nipples and a dripping-wet pussy. She crept out of the room again and the door creaked slightly when she closed it halfway. Fae found her way back to the kitchen and opened Erik’s fridge, grabbing another water bottle. Without thinking, she shut the refrigerator door harder than she intended to.
Just then, Erik walked out.
“Fae?”
He had on a white beater and tight black briefs. He had a durag over his locs.
Fae was transfixed.
“You can’t sleep?” Erik asked while scratching his beard.
“No,” Fae looked at his body, “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“I couldn’t sleep either.”
Erik admired her in his clothes and chuckled.
“You look cute.”
Fae had a tight grip on her water bottle. Erik looked at her with worry in his eyes. He walked up to her, took the bottle out of her hand, and leaned into her.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
He even smelled amazing. That same vanilla scent.
“You.”
Erik pulled back slightly and he blinked at her with a perplexed look in his eyes.
“Me?” Erik clarifies.
“Yes. You’re the reason I’m tossing and turning. Not Cordell.”
Fae turned away to face the kitchen island. She grabbed onto it to steady herself.
“…Care to tell me why?”
Fae flicked her eyes towards him, “I was thinking…”
Erik waited but she could tell he was growing impatient.
“Thinking…?”
“If you wouldn’t mind–you know–yeah?”
Erik looked towards the ceiling.
“Fae, ima need you to tell me what’s on your mind.”
His voice held an edge to it she hadn’t heard from him before. It was all or nothing.
Put your big girl panties on, Fae, and just say it.
“Wanna fuck?”
Erik’s eyes went round. Fae didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. Her heart was pounding.
“Uh–yes? No?” Fae asked.
Erik’s eyes became sultry but still he hadn’t said a word.
“I’m attracted to you. I know you’re attracted to me. I really wanna start some shit. And I guess…what better way than to have sex with my neighbor?”
A mischievous smirk slowly formed on his plump lips.
“So, you want me to be your sneaky link?”
Fae pondered.
“Is that what it is?”
Erik nodded his head slowly, “Yeah. Pretty much.”
“It sounds so…I don’t know,” Fae giggled nervously.
“Fun?”
Erik smiled with both dimples.
“Wrong,” Fae said, “Wouldn’t it just be better to break up with him instead of this back and forth?”
“Fae,” Erik dragged a hand down his face, “You said so yourself earlier. You want him to feel the same hurt. Stop acting all scary and get yours.”
Fae didn’t take her eyes away from Erik. She dragged her tongue towards the corner of her mouth, fingers drumming on the counter top before suddenly, Erik traps her against the kitchen island.
“I’ll be your sneaky link, Miss Fae.”
Fae smirked naughtily.
“When should we make this official?” She asked.
“Hm,” Erik titled his head towards her face. He used the back of his fingertips to stroke her neck while his eyes roamed her body, “We can start now if you like.”
“…Okay.”
———
Erik grabbed Fae by her soft hand and walked her towards his room. He pushed open his door and shut it completely behind them. With her hand still in his, Erik led her over to his bed. He grabbed both of her hands and Fae sat down with her legs on either side of his. She sat back against her hands, causing her chest to thrust forward. Erik turned on one of his lamp lights so he could see her better.
She was so damn sexy. He couldn’t sleep because he knew she was right next door to him. He was not expecting her to ask him that, but he was so glad that she did. He was going to enjoy this. She deserves good dick after finding out about her boyfriend. He was so excited about it that his dick was at its full potential already.
Erik leaned forward with his hands cupping her face and finally, he pressed his lips against hers. It was electric. They tongue kissed right off the back, Erik lowering on top of her. He slipped one hand beneath the base of her head to control her movements. Fae brought her knees up and dragged the sides of her feet along his waist.
They’re heads moved from left to right, tongues reaching every crevice of the others mouth. The sound of their kissing filled the quiet room. It was the longest make-out session Erik ever had. Not once did they come up for air. Fae untied his durag and tossed it onto the bed. She used her fingers with those short acrylic french tips to grip him by his locs.
Erik loved the way she tugged on his hair. Her mouth tasted minty and her lips, although no longer covered in gloss, was soft and buttery-smooth. Fae released Erik’s hair and his locs flopped against his forehead. She molded her body more into his and her hands went over his shoulders and down his arms. She used only her fingertips. That had Erik groaning into her mouth.
Erik finally released his lips with a wet smack to look at her. She touched his face, ran a thumb over his bottom lip revealing gold slugs, and dragged her nails down his throat to gather the neck of his white beater into her fist. Lip between her teeth, she yanked him back down and they were kissing again.
His dick was on brick. The heat from between her legs told him all he needed to know. But first, he wanted to undress her. He needed to see that body in its naked splendor. He already noticed her hard nipples in the kitchen. Erik couldn’t wait to suck on them.
Fae broke the kiss this time. Erik brought his hungry lips to her cheek and now he was ravishing her neck.
“Careful,” Fae whispered, “No love bites.”
“My bad,” Erik made sure to keep from sucking her neck, “You just taste so good.”
“Erik,” Fae moaned with a hushed voice.
Erik sat up to look at her.
“Do I get to spoil you too?”
Fae chuckles, “If you want.”
Erik kissed her lips.
“So I get to fuck you and spoil you?”
Erik sat up to remove his top. To see it in person blew Fae away. She glided her hands from his chest to his abs. Erik loved the way she touched all over him. He worked hard for this body, it always turned him on whenever a woman would admire him.
“Yes,” Fae whimpered.
She sat up, flipping her hair over her shoulder before removing Erik’s T-shirt. Beautiful, round flesh with small areolas and pointed dark nipples blessed his eyes.
“I just wanna eat you up,” Erik latched onto one of her nipples, “Mm…mmmmm…”
Erik went from nipple to nipple, and the way her body shivered, Cordell couldn’t have been doing it like this. He did this thing with his lips where he would leisurely suck all the way to the tip of her nipple before using the pointed end of his thick tongue to flick it. She had the prettiest titties. The way she looked at him with low, wanton eyes had Erik hooked.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” Fae threw her head back.
Erik kissed her sternum and down to her stomach. Fae leaned back on her elbows. He was getting closer. Erik’s anticipation was strong. He hoped she’d seen the pussy eating videos in his likes. He sat up a little to drag his shorts down her body. Before he did the same for her panties, he kissed her hips, thighs, and knees.
“I want you to relax and let me make you feel good…because that’s what you deserve. I’m a show you…”
Erik used his teeth to get her panties past her thighs then he took it off the rest of the way with his hand.
“I’m keeping these,” Erik sniffed the crotch, “Don’t worry, I’ll be thinking of you every time I beat my dick when I go away for work.”
Fae gasped when Erik spread her thighs and pushed her knees into her chest. Her pussy is fat and soaked like he liked. Her clit poked out and the wetness dripping out of her reminding him of honey from a jar had Erik’s taste bubs going crazy.
“Damn…you got a pretty pussy.” Erik said.
“Thank you.” Fae replied.
Erik spread her open with his fingers causing Fae to moan.
“Can you please eat me up, daddy? Like those videos on your Twitter?”
Erik’s dick jumped. So she did see them? Perfect.
He didn’t waste time. Erik put his face in her pussy and licked. Whenever he slurped, he would gather spit and all her juicy goodness in his mouth to suck her pussy. Fae was speechless. She tired to tilt her hips away from his mouth when he found his way back to her clit, but Erik stayed on that pussy.
“Fuuuck! Oh my god,” Fae moaned,” I can’t take it. It feels so good. I don’t want you to stop.”
She was talking nonsense while Erik was too busy feasting on fat pussy. He spread those lips and used all his skills to make Fae cum. When he dragged his tongue up and down between her folds, over her clit, and back down, Fae was whimpering heavily. Like she had no control over her body. Her body seized up and she couldn’t even close her legs because Erik had her locked in place.
“Erikkkkkk!” Fae cried out.
He sat up to take a breath in but all he could smell was her pussy and it was devine.
“I’m not finished. Turn around and sit on my face.”
Fae got up and Erik crawled beneath her. She sat that beautiful pussy on his mouth again and he instructed for her to bounce her pussy in his mouth. The angle and the positon of her pussy created a new sensation she hadn’t felt before. It was like her pussy was being sucked into the tightest vortex and she was afraid to squirt in his face. Her legs grew weak from the sensation and she fell to her knees.
Erik was right on her pussy. Her entire body shook out of her control.
“Ohhhhmygodddddd.”
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”
She was a broken record. He had a way of taking you to a whole other dimension. Your mind and body are two separate things.
“Erik, wait,” Fae cried, “wait, wait, wait!”
She was too late. With a deep moan she was squirting. He licked it up. Fae climbed off and crashed to the bed convulsing. Erik sat up and he could feel her juices dripping from his chin, down to his chest. Fae curled into a fetal position and Erik watched her ride the wave of orgasmic release. He kissed up her spine as her body shook. Fae finally relaxed and when she flipped over, she spread her legs to see her pussy.
“I couldn’t stop,” Erik kissed her pussy, “I plan to eat this pussy whenever.”
“I wasn’t in control of my body,” Fae said with a tremble in her voice.
He inserted a finger with his eyes on her.
“Didn’t think I was gonna get you right, huh?” He dragged his lip between his teeth before releasing it slowly, “you got one more for me, princess, before I put this dick in your mouth?”
Fae planted her face into the bed and allowed Erik to finger her into another orgasm.
“You grip like that?” Erik pumped slowly.
“Fuck,” Fae hissed, “I’m gonna cum…”
Erik forced her to keep her legs open.
“Keep your eyes on me.” He commanded.
Fae did as she was told. He smirked at her while his fingers thrust in and out, hitting places she didn’t know could feel this good. He proved to her once again that he was a pro in bed. With the look in her eyes, Erik told her how much he couldn’t wait to bury his dick inside of her.
Erik watched her face like he was conducting an experiment on how many times he could make Fae cum. The slight tilt of his head and the crease in his brow had her creaming all over his fingers. Erik sucked her mess off of his digits and slid off of the bed. He took off his one piece of clothing and when Fae came face to face with his dick, she couldn’t believe how big it was. He could tell she wasn’t used to this. But she wasn’t a saint, so at this point, she was going to take it.
He made a come-hither motion with his fingers and Fae was on her knees. She grabbed him and her mouth fell open at how thick it is. It wasn’t too much thickness, but enough to make her feel full. Erik smirked at her when she put him into her mouth. She looked up at him and sucked as much as she could. Erik gathered her hair and shocked her when he forced her head lower. Fae almost gagged.
“I knew this mouth was gon’ feel good, mmm,” Erik licked his lips, “You’re such a pretty dick-sucker, baby.”
Fae closed her eyes and started moaning a little. She popped her lips off and jerked him with a sloppy face. Erik hooked his hands under her arms and sat her on the bed. He gripped her chin with force and kissed her while his other hand squeezed one of her titties. When he stood back up at his full night, Fae continued sucking. She was making spit bubbles with her mouth.
“Mm, stay on that tip…that’s it…good girl…eat that fuckin’ dick up.”
Fae used her hand to stroke while her head bobbed at the same time.
“Fae…”
He had her by the hair again and more of his dick made its way past her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes. He released her and she gasped for air. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“That’s my girl. You take me so well down your throat.” Erik praises.
He slapped his dick on her tongue. Fae looked up at him with doe eyes while his dick rubbed across her lips. That look alone could have him busting. He had to stop her before it happened.
“Did I do a good job?” Fae asked.
“Yes. You have the tightest throat.”
“You know what else is tight?” Fae couldn’t keep her hands off his dick. She grabbed a handful of his nuts and licked him all over.
“What’s that, baby?” Erik asked.
“This pussy.”
“You think you can handle it?” Erik questioned.
Fae gave a slight shrug.
“You’re a big girl.” Erik reminded her.
_______
“You’re a big girl, of course you can.”
Fae wasn’t so sure about that. Erik was thick and long. She tried to appear confident, but the harder he is, the more she’d feel him in her stomach. She was already trying to register in her mind that she was doing this with him. Erik moved her towards the center of the bed and he got between her legs. He sat up on his knees and threw Fae’s legs over his shoulders. Erik had slipped on a condom that he grabbed from his bedside table.
“You ready?”
Fae nodded her head.
Erik pushed past her lips. Fae gasped. She watched as Erik spread her legs and held them up and back. He tilted his hips and sank deeper. The entire time he was lowering that big dick inside of her, his eyes were enticing, never looking away for a second. Eventually, his eyelids fluttered and he let out a grunt.
“You fit around me so good…good girl.”
Fae moaned. He was thrusting in and out slowly. Fae grabbed onto his shoulders and squeezed. Erik held her thighs back with his hands.
“Damn, baby.”
Erik’s abs flexed as he picked up speed. Fae was so wet she couldn’t believe how he felt thrusting in and out of her. It was warm and tingly. Erik’s brows furrowed and his lip was between his teeth. He finally released her thighs and drove his fists into the bed, leaning over her even more. His chain dangled on her face and he was looking down at her through his locs.
“You feel so good,” he said through clenched teeth.
Fae’s toes curled. She was hyperventilating. Erik wouldn’t let up. She tried gripping his waist but he was too strong. Her much smaller body curled beneath him while he hunched over her.
“Oooh, yes.” Fae moaned.
“You taking this dick, baby?”
“Mhm,” Fae replied as best as she could.
“Didn’t daddy tell you that you was gon’ take it?”
His words and his strokes combined was too much.
“Didn’t I? Answer me.”
“Yessss,” Fae moaned.
Their panting breaths and moans sounded beautiful. Her wet pussy and their flesh colliding grew louder and louder.
“Give Daddy that squirt, Fae. My little waterfall.”
Fae seized up beneath him. She was squirting again. It only made her wetter. Erik pulled Fae into another kiss. His dick was still inside of her, throbbing and hard.
The condom was still nice and wet when he slipped out. Fae was stretched a new hole. Erik flipped her over and pulled her by the ankles towards the edge of the bed. Fae laughed at his roughness, looking back at him while bouncing her cheeks. Erik spanked her on each cheek and then he pressed his face between and wiggled his tongue over her back door entrance.
She’d never been licked back there before. Not like this at least. He was putting his face in it. He finally came up for air and Fae arched her back from the bed. Erik rubbed his tip between her folds before he found her hole again and sank that meat deep inside again. Fae reached back to grip his thigh.
“Oh!” She shouted.
Erik grabbed her wrists, pushing them out of the way. He began thrusting. Fae could feel it all in her stomach.
“Why is it in my belly?” Fae’s mouth dropped open.
Erik increased speed.
“You know how I like it, Fae. Face down. Ass up.”
Erik smacked his hand across her ass hard.
“Baby, you’re creaming all over this dick.” Erik said, “Of only you could see this…the way my dick goes in and out…fuck…”
Fae shut her eyes and just felt. Her hips snapped forward. Erik was beating that shit up from behind. Fae couldn’t keep still anymore. The pressure on her lower abdomen was a pressure she hadn’t felt. Fae would turn from side to side, look back at Erik with weepy eyes, bring one hand back to push him. Nothing stopped him.
“Take everything I give you,” Erik grunted, “Take all this dick.”
“You’re going deep, daddy!”
“Oh, fuck—”
“Oh my god—”
“Don’t run from me,” Erik commanded.
Erik leaned over her and delivered precise thrusts to her g-spot. He gripped her throat from the front and buried his face into her neck. Loud clapping bounced off of the walls.
“I’m tearing this pussy up…squirt on this dick…there you go…got more for me? You know daddy likes it when you make a mess all over me. Daddy likes it when you give that pussy up…”
“YES!”
Fae did it again. She couldn’t believe it. He had a way with controlling her body. His voice and his touch.
“Spread that ass…dayum…”
He used his thumb to flick her clit from the back. Fae tried to shove his hand away.
“Move my hand again. I dare you. You won’t ever get to use your hands again fucking wit me. I promise you that.”
He spoke so even toned but it was so rough.
“C’mere to daddy…”
Erik turned Fae up on her left side and raised one leg. He entered her from the side and fucked her into the mattress again.
“Now…daddy has to cum…fu-uckkkkkk…”
He looked so damn fine covered in sweat. That big brown dick was digging her out so good. Fae pouted her lip and Erik slipped his thumb into her mouth for her to suck on. Titties bouncing, pussy open, Fae felt like Erik’s personal fuck doll.
“You just fit on my dick…been taking this shit…dammit, Fae…”
His eyes rolled shut and he lowered his head.
“Look what you made me do, bitch—”
That condom was overloaded with his nut. Erik’s hips jerked out of control for a little bit. He was still inside of Fae. She was staring at him like she couldn’t believe what they just did.
He called her a bitch. She didn’t know the effect that would have on her until now. It was the sexiest thing.
“Whew, fuck,” Erik deep breaths slowed down, “Fae…you wore a nigga out.”
Erik withdrew his hips and left to the bathroom to take off his condom and pee. Fae found his T-shirt and went to do the same. She walked as best as she could but her muscles kept spasming. When she returned, Erik was back in his briefs. Fae sat next to him on the bed. She wasn’t there for more than two seconds before he lifted her up over his lap to straddle him.
“I want you to sleep with me tonight.” Erik whispered.
They kissed a few times. Fae stared at him with this look in her eyes that said she’d do whatever he told her to do.
“Okay,” Fae tongue kissed him, breaking the kiss to look at him, “I want you to fuck me again.”
She said this with tired eyes and a pout.
“You’re tired, Fae. I promise I’ll be in that pussy again. “
They stared at each other with a mixture of restlessness and lust before kissing again for a while this time, Erik’s hands cuffing her ass and Fae’s fingers gripping his locs.
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459 notes · View notes
noahsresources · 1 year
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more cringy dirty & flirty pick-up lines sentence starters
this is extremely self-indulgent, don't mind me lmfao. feel free to use these for whatever you want and change any details that need to be.
❝ you're so hot, my zipper is falling for you. ❞ ❝ i love my bed, but i'd rather be in yours. ❞ ❝ nice outfit. it'd look even better if it were on my bedroom floor. ❞ ❝ roses are red, violets are fine. you be the six, and i'll be the nine. ❞ ❝ do you have any room for an extra tongue in your mouth? ❞ ❝ if you're feeling down, i can feel you up. ❞ ❝ my ideal body weight is yours on mine. ❞ ❝ your belt looks really tight. can i loosen it for you? ❞ ❝ there are 206 bones in your body. think you can handle another one? ❞ ❝ let's play carpenter so i can nail you. ❞ ❝ i'd tell you a joke about my dick, but ... it's too long. ❞ ❝ hey, i might be wasted, but the condom in my pocket doesn't have to be. ❞ ❝ i may not go down in history, but i'll go down on you. ❞ ❝ you must be a chicken farmer because you know exactly how to raise my cock. ❞ ❝ sorry, what's your name again? i want to get it right when i shout it later. ❞ ❝ you must be an elevator because i want to go up and down on you all day. ❞ ❝ i'd love to kiss those beautiful, luscious lips. and the ones on your face. ❞ ❝ if you were a toe, i'd bang you on every wall, table, and chair in this bar. ❞ ❝ sit on my lap, and let's talk about the first thing that pops up. ❞ ❝ do you work for UPS? 'cause you've got a fantastic package. ❞ ❝ want to play a game? i'll be the squirrel, you be the tree, and i'll bust a nut in your hole. ❞ ❝ your legs are like an oreo cookie. i wanna split them and eat all the good stuff in the middle. ❞ ❝ i bet i can touch your belly button ... from the inside. ❞ ❝ how do you feel about doing some math in the bedroom? all you need to do is add me, subtract your clothes, divide your legs, and we can multiply. ❞ ❝ remember my name, because you'll be screaming it later. ❞ ❝ my doctor told me i have a vitamin d deficiency. wanna go back to my place and save me? ❞ ❝ if i flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head? ❞ ❝ my dick's been feeling a little dead lately. wanna give it some mouth-to-mouth? ❞ ❝ i'm no weather man, but you can expect more than a few inches tonight. ❞ ❝ is your name medusa? because the moment you look at me, i get rock hard. ❞ ❝ can you tell me what time your legs open, please? ❞ ❝ are you a rubix cube? because the more i play with you the harder you get. ❞ ❝ you look too god for a pickup line, so let's cut to the chase — wanna fuck? ❞
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colormepurplex2 · 4 months
Text
Now I'm Yours | Feel It In Your Soul
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↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,697 ⚠️ Vulgar language, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, fighting/physical altercation, alpha challenge, knife violence/attack, blood, injury, bond sex, dick licking/oral, slick eating, biting/marking, blood/wound licking, surprise pregnancy
A/N: Read Make You Mine, the first installment of this series, here!
⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to story masterlist
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When you meet Jungkook’s family in the garage the next morning, the sun isn't even up yet. His parents are waiting next to the large SUV that’s idling by the open door when you enter through the side entrance from the laundry room.
After a hasty shower, you threw on jeans and a t-shirt and are now helping Junghyun load the back of the vehicle with a few boxes from the storage room. The tops of the boxes are labeled with various things, mostly boasting medical supplies or nonperishable foodstuffs.
“Did Jungkook say why he wanted us to bring all of this stuff?"
Junghyun looks up at you from under his brow as he bends over to retrieve the next box, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Donations. We’re going to be close to The Sanctuary, and we try to donate once a quarter if we’re able.”
This is the first you’ve heard of the Jeons donating to The Sanctuary. You’re intimately familiar with the place. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a sanctuary for abused or neglected omegas and their children. Mari was one such omega, cast aside by her original pack when she didn’t match with any of the alphas within it. It wasn’t until Roland, having just taken over as pack Alpha of your old pack, started up his own annual donations to The Sanctuary that he met Mari. Your old pack made at least a donation every six months after that, helping as many omegas and children as possible.
It’s not that you wouldn’t think the Jeons are a pack that would help those less fortunate; you’d just not given it much thought, considering you grew up thinking they were run by power-hunger alphaholes. Not that Jungkook isn’t an alphahole, he’s just…maybe not as bad as you once thought—even without the rose-tinged view you have of him now from being your mate.
The duel is taking place on neutral territory, which happens to be an old warehouse that’s been converted into a performance theatre in the entertainment district of the central city. The warehouse was renovated a few decades ago by the council when enough of the surrounding packs hounded them for a space to meet en masse.
It’s about three hour's drive, the view filled with the sun peeking over the mountains and trees with their leaves changing in preparation for winter. You sit in the passenger seat, head resting against the window while you try not to stress too much over the events of the next twenty-four hours.
“Come on, dear,” the soft voice of Jungkook’s mother drags you from your rumination. She’s leaning through the gap between the front seats, her hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. “We’re here.”
You hadn’t even realized the vehicle had stopped and that Junghyun and Jungkook’s father had gotten out already. 
“Sorry,” you mutter, popping open the door and sliding out.
She meets you along the side of the SUV, a concerned look pinching her brow. “Are you feeling okay?”
Now that she mentions it, you are feeling a bit off-kilter. Though, it’s probably just the nerves. “Just worried, that’s all,” you explain, pressing a hand against your stomach.
“Did you skip breakfast?” she asks, hooking her arm around your other one and slowly leading you to where Junghyun and his father stand near the elevator of the parking garage.
Breakfast was the last thing on your mind this morning. “Yeah. I’ll be okay, though.”
“Nonsense,” she tuts, producing a whole-grain protein bar from the bag slung over her other shoulder. “You’ll feel better with something in your stomach. Now, let’s go find my son. Being near your alpha will do you a dose of good, as well.”
You nibble on the protein bar, looking to simply placate her, but find yourself suddenly ravenous and consume the whole thing in three bites. It sits like lead in your belly, and you immediately regret wolfing it down so quickly.
“This foolish display will start at precisely noon, not long now,” Jungkook’s father states, the clip of his cane hitting the linoleum flooring of the elevator echoing the disapproval that’s evident in his voice.
Junghyun presses the button that’s labeled ‘theatre hall’ on the control panel and the cabled car begins a swift ascent up to the fifth floor. You caught sight of Jungkook's motorcycle in the parking garage, sitting next to Jimin’s red sports car. A few other familiar vehicles lined the rows, but there were dozens more you didn’t recognize.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you feel a familiar humming warmth bloom in the center of your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve learned to associate with being nearer to Jungkook. Peeking at your phone, you see it’s a message from the alpha, letting you know he’s waiting for you just on the other side of the elevator doors.
“There you are,” Jungkook exhales, not even waiting for you to get off the elevator before he’s gathering you into his arms. His scent engulfs you, immediately putting you at ease. Jungkook is all alpha, and as much as you hate to admit it, he’s exactly what you need; your stomach and nerves are instantly soothed.
Jungkook’s father clears his throat, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “What news do you have?”
Jungkook sighs, releasing most of his hold on you, but keeps an arm over your shoulders and ushers you out of the elevator and into the hall. “Most all the other families have arrived. Jimin is with Daehyun now. I haven’t managed to lay my eyes on either Raiden or Demetrius. According to the council, they’re supposed to be in the eastern dressing rooms. I have seen Kiel skulking around the halls, though, creepy bastard.”
“Have you seen Hyunsoo?” Jungkook nods in answer to his father’s question. “I’d like to have a word with him.”
“Last I saw him, he was inside speaking with the council.”
“Perfect, I could do with a word for them, too,” Jungkook’s father grumbles before starting toward the entrance to the performance hall proper. Junghyun follows closely behind, after dipping his chin at Jungkook. You’ve never seen Jungkook get bent out of shape over designation deference, as some alphas do. He doesn’t force those below him to bow and scrape; he just asks for as much respect as he affords them in exchange. It’s just another tick you’ve had to add to your ‘Jungkook isn’t as bad as I once thought’ list.
“Are you feeling okay?” Jungkook asks softly, his eyes flicking between yours.
You do feel much better now that you’re with him, which would normally grate on you, but you can’t seem to muster up the typical ire for some reason. “I’ll be fine,” you assure him. “Just nerves.” That seems to satisfy him.
“Come on, let’s go before Dad causes too much of a scene.”
“Umm, I’ll be right there. I’m just going to go to the restroom real quick.”
He continues to stare at you for a moment longer before slowly nodding. “Okay. Mom, we’ll be right back—”
“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t have to come with—”
“Jungkook,” his mom interrupts you both, giving her son an amused smile. “She might be your omega, but I promise she doesn’t need you to hold her hand while she uses the restroom. I’ll wait here for her. You go on ahead with your father and Junghyun.”
Pink creeps up Jungkook’s neck and kisses his ears. “Right. Okay. I’ll see you inside,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before reluctantly taking his arm from across your shoulders and heading toward the door his father and brother disappeared through.
“Thank you,” you say to his mom. “I’ll be right back.”
You’ve only been here a handful of times over the years for various events, but you’re able to follow the signs well enough to the restrooms located on this side of the venue. However, when you get there, the door is locked, and there is a janitorial wet-floor sign posted right outside.
It’s just your luck, right as you’re starting to feel a light wave of nausea wash over you. Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your inner omega, who isn’t helping the situation at all, you turn to retreat back to where Jungkook’s mom is waiting for you a few halls over. Maybe she’ll have something that can calm your warring stomach and nerves.
“I can break the lock if you need to get in there,” a voice calls out from further down the hall just as you take a step to go back. “You look like you need it.”
You swivel toward the voice but can only make out the silhouette of someone standing in a darkened doorway a few doors down. They pull out a phone, and the blue light illuminates the ceiling for a moment before it’s plunged back into darkness. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“You don’t look fine to me.” The words come with a chuckle that slithers over your senses and sets you on high alert. You’ve heard that voice before. “If fact, you look like a helpless little omega that’s about to sick up all over the floor.”
That’s a thought. You might just do that, considering who steps out from that doorway, the face fitting with the name screaming inside your head. Kiel Barton. He’s every inch the viperous bastard he’s known to be. Despite being not much taller than you, he’s thicker through each arm and leg than both of yours combined. His bald head glints in the overhead light, and the jagged scar on his right cheek is bright white against his red-flushed face. He swaggers into the hallway, just a few feet away, twirling a switchblade through his thick fingers.
“I’m not helpless,” you seethe through your teeth. You don’t necessarily mean for the words to come out so aggressively, but they do. Years of not taking shit from anyone don’t seem to have worn off too much from your time of being mated with Jungkook. And if it’s one thing you’ve always hated, it’s how everyone thinks omegas are weak and soft—helpless without an alpha.
Kiel grins, and it reminds you of something you might see in a horror film right before the psycho killer attacks. “Oh, sweet, sweet omega,” he crows before sucking in a deep lungful of air, “I don’t think you realize just how helpless you are right now.”
You’re about to turn on your heel and run when he leaps. It’s like a strike of lightning; he moves so fast—faster than your reflexes can keep up with. Pain thunders through you as his burly form knocks into you and sends you hurtling a few feet down the hall to land in a heap on the floor.
He’s back on you in an instant, cold steel pressed against your neck. “Get off me!” you scream, trying your best to buck him off despite the disorienting feeling still reeling inside your head.
“I promised my brother as long as he did his part, I would do mine,” Kiel sing-songs in a demented tone, his words trailing off into another one of those spine-chilling chuckles. 
“Fuck you!” You struggle under his weight, your knees and elbows trying to get any purchase along his thick-muscled body that they can. You manage to catch him along the neck with your hand, nails scoring bloody lines through the devil tattoo he has there.
An ear-splitting roar, the sound of loud banging, and running feet sound from somewhere down the hall, making Kiel’s laughter trail off. “Looks like my time to play is—” A small, sneakered foot meets the side of his ribs, turning his words into a grunt. The hit barely rocks him, but you can’t be sure of who it is, though, around his bulk.
“Get off of her, you snake!” snarls a familiar feminine voice, only it’s dripping with far more acid than you’ve ever heard before.
“FUCK! I don’t have time for this!” Kiel thunders, rearing back and bringing a fist around right into your temple, sending you careening into hazy darkness.
There is so much noise and movement that when you first come to, you think you’re dreaming. But then the very real pain lights up along your side, and you’re reminded that this is very much not a dream. You’re laying on the floor in the hallway outside the bathroom, side smarting hard from the impact of hitting the floor and the memory of a meaty fist stark in your mind.
You go to sit up, only to have your hand slip through a puddle of warm, sticky liquid. The scent hits you a second later, thick and metallic. “Oh gods,” you whimper softly. Your hand is bright red when you bring it up in front of your face.
“Please,” comes an even more pitiful whimper from beside you. Adrenaline kicks in, and you flip onto your hands and knees, letting your eyes swing over the scene around you.
A dozen bodies are packed in the hall, fists flying and mouths opened in concussive bellows. It’s pandemonium. Everyone is fighting, familiar faces and those of strangers alike. All the sounds combined make you want to crawl into a corner and cover your ears, but the form lying beside you keeps you right where you are.
Jungkook’s mom lies on the floor. Her body turned at an odd angle, with her hips going one way and her torso the other as if she was flung around like a ragdoll. You realize the whimpering is coming from her. She lifts a trembling hand toward you, and you grab onto it, crawling closer to kneel beside her.
The blood covering your hand, now seeping through the knees of your jeans, is coming from her. A familiar-looking switchblade is protruding from the upper right area of her chest, between her clavicle and shoulder, and there is a cut over her left eyebrow that blood is steadily oozing from.
“No, no, no!” You quickly rip off a strip from the bottom of your t-shirt and press it around the blade, trying to staunch the wound. The cut above her brow doesn’t look deep; all the blood is a bit alarming, but you know headwounds are the worst in being deceptive; they bleed so much. You’re also scared to take your hands away from her chest. “What did you do?”
Her eyes flicker open, rolling wide until they land on you. “Had to”—she pauses, whimpering in pain as someone stumbles backward and knocks into her splayed legs—”pr-protect the baby.”
“Protect the–protect the wh—”
“NO!” The alpha roar echoes through the hall, as loud as a thunderclap.
In the same instant that your hands are moved aside and replaced by the older, more gnarled ones of her mate, arms come around you from behind and you’re lifted up off the floor. Fear grips your throat, and you flail, aiming your elbow backward at whoever grabbed you.
“Stop, calm down!” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your fight instinct, and you sag in his arms. The fighting around you has turned into pockets of isolated struggle.
You blink a few times, clearing the panicked haze from your eyes, finally able to piece everything together. There are a few busted lips and some already swelling eyes, but there are at least a handful of familiar faces around you. Each one is executing some form of hold over individuals with less familiar faces; headlocks, arm bars, and others that look just as effective, if maybe more painful.
Then there is the scene at your feet, right out of a horror movie. Jungkook’s dad and brother are kneeling beside his mom, the knife still sticking out of her chest. It looks like the blood has stopped pooling around the blade, but you can’t seem to remember if that’s a good or a bad sign.
“Jungkook! Your mom, we need a medic!” you urge, struggling in his arms again.
A sinister, wet, cackling laugh cuts through the hushed din of the hallway before it turns into a hacking cough. You can hear the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh and pained grunts.
”Shut up, you sick bastard!” The ragged cry comes from further down the hallway, where you see Seokjin with his arms wrapped around Kiel’s upper torso and Yoongi throwing fists into his stomach. “How dare you!?”
“Yoongi.” Jungkook doesn’t have to raise his voice at all. The other alpha stops, fist poised mid-punch, his shoulders heaving. “That’s enough.” The coldness in Jungkook’s tone has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. You’ve never heard him sound so utterly emotionless. “For now.”
Pounding footsteps sound from the other end of the hall, and a few betas come skidding into view, medical bags in hand. “Out of the way!” one of the betas shouts, shouldering his way down the hall before dropping down beside Junghyun and beginning to work. “I need to get her stabilized before we can move her.”
Everything is still a bit cloudy for you; all you have are flits and flashes of memory, but it’s not hard to piece it together. Kiel came after you outside the bathroom, and then Jungkook’s mom tried to interfere. “Is she, is she going to be okay?” you ask, voice soft, your lips trembling around the question.
Jungkook hooks an arm under the backs of your legs and hoists you up against his chest, and you get your first good look at his face. There is a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth and mild swelling coming up around his left eye.
He’s about to open his mouth to say something when a group of grey-haired alphas cut around the corner at the end of the hall, and the one in the front gasps dramatically, “Good gods! What has happened?” You groan at the loud sound, burying your face into Jungkook’s chest.
“This is what happens when you entertain absurd demands from a known trouble-making pack,” Jungkook’s father states with barely veiled malice.
“This is your mess,” Jungkook says, directing attention to the elders shuffling their feet at the end of the hall. His words are acerbic despite him speaking at a normal volume. It’s an alpha statement, carrying the cutting edge of an unspoken command. The entire hallway stills, the air thick with tension.
“Our mess?”
“If you had listened to me from the start about how utterly ridiculous this whole duel bullshit was, this”—he nods down at his mother, who is still being worked on by the betas—”wouldn’t have happened. I’ll have all of you off the council before the week is over, mark my words,” he seethes. “And, if she doesn’t recover fully, I’ll have more than just your titles. Yoongi, Seokjin, you know what to do.” With that, Jungkook turns and stalks down the hall, carrying you with him.
🌙🌙🌙
Jungkook
There is so much rage simmering beneath Jungkook’s skin that he thinks he might explode if he doesn’t let it out somehow. However, the only outlet he wants right now is you—to get lost in your body and your soul—but you’re in no state to take the brunt of his emotions.
“Jungkook.” Your soft voice draws his gaze down to your face. Seeing the swelling around your eye makes him want to turn around and finish what Yoongi was starting. Jungkook isn’t violent, but he could level the entire city right now if he weren’t so focused on getting you checked out. You bring a hand up and lightly trace the break in his lip. “What happened?”
“Raiden and Demetrius. I think this was their plan all along. One minute, Father and I were talking to the council while we waited, and the next, Raiden and Demetrius, along with a half dozen of their pack, came bursting into the theatre and attacked us.” Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. “I felt you, I felt the…” the trails off, not wanting to voice those feelings aloud. The pure terror he felt through his mate connection to you. The tie between the two of you has never really been an open street, he’s never been able to feel your emotions so viscerally before. It was almost enough to take him to his knees. If he didn’t need to fight off a pack of rabid alphas, it nearly might have. “I’m sorry,” Jungkook rasps.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. We knew they were up to no good. I should have been more vigilant or, at least, taken you up on your offer to escort me to the restroom.” You try to laugh, but it turns into a groan as your head pounds.
“Let’s get you to the hospital so they can check you over.”
No amount of protests from you will deter Jungkook from getting you to a doctor. Junghyun texts him shortly after he places you in the backseat of the SUV, letting Jungkook know that everyone else is on their way to the hospital and an ambulance is en route to get their mother but that the betas are hopeful.
Several hours later, you’ve been released from the hospital with confirmation of no lasting damage, just a recommendation to get some rest. Jungkook’s lip is patched with a butterfly stitch, per your insistence, and it itches as he sits on the edge of the bed in the hotel room he booked before leaving the hospital. Even though you aren’t concussed or anything, Jungkook didn’t want to risk taking you all the way back to pack lands.
Besides, his mother was admitted and is still there for observation, and he doesn’t feel comfortable being too far away while she’s in recovery. She went in for surgery immediately upon arrival and woke up not too long ago. Junghyun and their father are staying at the hospital with her until she’s cleared to go home, which will hopefully not be more than a few days. Apparently, her wounds looked worse than they were, and she was fortunate Kiel didn’t get her an inch further to either side. Otherwise, it might be a very different outcome.
Jimin texted him a bit ago, letting him know the entire Barton pack is being detained at the local precinct, and the authorities are awaiting word from Jungkook about charges. The council sequestered themselves behind closed doors, but the duel was considered null due to the circumstances. Jimin feels bad about being part of the ruse, even if he was just being used as a means to get close to the Jeon pack.
It’s come to light that the Bartons decided to use their feud with the Parks because they knew the Jeons wouldn’t sit idly by. One big, elaborate plan, all to get close to Jungkook’s Luna and try to tear down the hierarchy. If Jungkook lost his Soulmate, he’d lose his foundation of power as well. Or so, that’s what the buzz was when some of the Barton betas were interrogated, according to Jimin.
Jungkook knows everything is going to be okay, that you’re going to be okay; the doctor told him as much. But, despite that assurance, he can’t seem to relax. You’re curled up in the bed, facing him, and you look so peaceful, even with the swelling on the side of your face, but all he can feel is rage when he sees that…rage and so much guilt.
He never should have let you go to the restroom on your own. If he has his way, he’s never going to let you out of his sight again. It’s such an alarming realization, going from one polar sensation to the next. The fact he could give two shits less about you just a few months ago, and now here he is wanting to murder someone for touching you, is hard to wrap his head around.
Yet, here he is, fisting the edge of one of the blankets as he battles this feeling inside himself. The fact his alpha has been mostly silent since Jungkook laid eyes on you in that hallway is just as alarming. It’s almost like his alpha is giving him space. For the first time since coming into his designation, he feels like a giant void separates him from his alpha; he doesn’t like it.
There’s also the pile of papers sitting on the desk, a few feet away, that hold another key bit of information that won’t let him relax. It was standard testing, just something to help rule other things out and see what kinds of tests they could and could not perform to assess your head.
You’re pregnant.
Now that he knows, Jungkook can tell. There is a distinct, underlying change to your scent. It’s sweeter somehow, more alluring in the sense that you now smell partly like him. He should have known before. He knows that if he hadn’t spent so much time away from you, he would have realized it sooner.
You were surprised, but your shock seemed more subdued. When questioned, you told Jungkook what his mother had said to you. Somehow, even his mother knew before he did. Jungkook feels like a failure, like he’s done nothing right by you. It had to have happened the night of your designation celebration. Neither of you had bothered with any preventative measures that night, too lost in the touch and feel of each other to care.
And now, here you are, pregnant without a bite on your neck and a knot on the side of your head. If anything were to have happened to the baby…Jungkook isn’t sure he can even think about that right now. Not without wanting to put his fist through the wall.
He’s spent weeks worried about staying away from you when all along, he was clearly concerned about all the wrong things. The doctor assured him that even the most attentive of alphas take several weeks before they can smell their own child in the womb. But that doesn’t make Jungkook feel any better.
He thinks back on all the curt and what he thought were nagging messages he had gotten from his mother the last few weeks and can see them in a different light now. She wasn’t just trying to chastise him about his duty; she was trying to coax him home so he could be there for his mate in a way he should have from the start.
Jungkook knows what he needs to do now. There is no question about it. Though, it’s not because he feels obligated…no, he truly wants to solidify that bond with you. As soon as you’re ready, he’s going to offer himself to you, finally and fully.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” your sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and makes him release his tight hold on the sheets.
Your eyes look so big and bright even in the dim light of the hotel room as you sleepily blink up at him. How he never wanted to give himself over to you so completely before now marks him as a sure fool.
He sighs, exhaling a slow breath. “Yeah. How are you feeling?”
You stretch, wincing only slightly as your arm brushes along the side of your face. “Better, I think.”
“Can we talk?” he asks after a pause of silence.
You give him a guarded look as you slowly sit up and gather some of the blankets in your lap. The doctor told him you might start feeling the need to nest and gather comfort items, so he had specifically requested the Omega suite, which comes with complimentary brand-new fuzzy blankets and extra pillows that guests are allowed to take home when checking out.
“Sure,” you finally say.
Jungkook watches as emotions cross your face, echoing the pulse he can feel emanating from his chest. His alpha perks up, rousing for the first time in hours it feels like.
“Okay.” Now that he’s been given the go-ahead to talk, he’s suddenly feeling very self-conscious and uncertain. “I know you told me I don’t need to apologize, but I’m going to anyway.” Your lips form a thin line when he says that, so he hurries to continue, “Not for”—he gestures vaguely in your direction—”but for everything else. I want to apologize for everything before this. The way I’ve treated you and how I’ve acted. You’ve deserved better than what I’ve offered you these last few weeks—for being an asshole and a fucking dick,” Jungkook uses your own choice of words for him, and that earns him a small smile from you.
“I want to apologize, too, then. And before you can protest”—Jungkook was 100% about to—”just let me finish. Sure, you’ve not been the greatest the last few weeks, but I know I haven’t either. I should have tried harder, fought you on you being gone all the time, stood up for what I wan–er, needed, and been honest with how it was making me feel.”
Jungkook shakes his head, unable to believe how you’ve yet again turned the tables on him. “I, uh, there’s something that…there’s something I want to do,” Jungkook barely manages to get the words out as anxiety spikes at the prospect of you refusing.
“What is it?”
The look of intrigue on your face turns into pure shock as Jungkook prostrates himself on the bed in front of you, deliberately turning his head to expose the side of his neck to you, an act of submission. “I’m giving myself to you, wholly and completely. All those weeks ago, I claimed you and made you mine, and…now I’m yours.”
🌙🌙🌙
You stare at Jungkook, not sure what to say. “I-I don’t need,” you begin, reaching for Jungkook and encouraging him to sit up, “you to do that. You don’t have to bend to me…as long as you promise never to make me bend to you either.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I’ll never force you to be something that you’re not ever again. I’m sorry I didn’t realize this sooner, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you asked to come with me to Jimin’s. From now on, I’ll listen to you, and I’ll not dismiss your concerns or voice. I don’t want you to feel like you’re beneath me simply because you’re my mate. I want you as my equal instead.”
The truth behind Jungkook’s words is evident in the fervent way he delivers them but also in the way your omega mews in satisfaction. A bite for a bite, an equal. Even though you wouldn’t be leaving a permanent mark on his neck like he will on yours, it’s still the intention, and it’s completely unheard of in your world. There are stories, myths, really…but nothing wholly substantial.
You shift on the bed, gathering your knees underneath you. Your jeans went into the trash, and all the hospital had was a thin pair of shorts and a t-shirt for you to wear. You fluff out the blankets absently as you mull over his words. “Your equal?”
“Yes,” Jungkook resolutely declares.
“I think I would like that,” you whisper, eyeing Jungkook’s mouth with a quickly burning hunger.
“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, swallowing hard as you lean in closer to him. “If you need more time to think, that’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” you counter, raising a questioning eyebrow.
Jungkook responds by kissing you hard on the mouth, wrapping his arms around you, and dragging you against his chest. He tastes like home; his tongue is warm and wet against yours, and you’re certain you could drown in the sensation if he let you. But, he comes up for air, breaking the kiss for a moment before pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.
Even with the aches in your face and body, you respond to him. With every teasing nip of his mouth, you feel yourself growing wet. The fragrant cream of your slick blooms in the air, melding with his masculine and spicy scent to create the perfect, heady bouquet.
“I’ve never been more sure about something,” Jungkook whispers the affirmation between kisses until his warm breath ghosts over the scent mark on your neck. “You smell so damn good,” he groans.
You can feel his lips part over the skin there; his tongue laves out and swipes up the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. With trembling hands, you help each other discard your clothing, finally coming back together skin to skin. Jungkook pulls you into his lap, his thick cock sitting snugly against your ass. You can feel the bulge of his knot already as if his body is automatically responding to just your closeness.
“You can say stop at any time,” you tell him, earning a surprised grunt when you shove him back against the pillows and deliberately slide your ass slowly over his cock as you move backward.
There is a challenge in his eyes as you meet them. You move until you’re kneeling between his knees, cock sitting prettily before you. “Where, ah,” Jungkook sucks in a stilted breath when you take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, “did you want to?” Pink tinges Jungkook’s ears as he looks down at you, mouth full of him. You tap the inside of his thigh and raise your brows in silent question. “O-okay, just…just be gentle.”
That makes you chuckle, the vibration coming up your throat, and you can tell it sends a shock through Jungkook; his head drops back, and his mouth opens with a loud moan. “Gentle says the man about to put a permanent bite on my neck. An act that is none too gentle, I might add,” you say, letting his cock slip out from between your lips.
“Okay, that’s fair,” he relents, his words breathy as you trace along the underside of his dick with your tongue. “Be as aggressive as you want, then.”
Feeling egged on just a little by that declaration, you plant your teeth firmly into the meat of his inner thigh and bite as hard as you dare. Your teeth pinprick his skin, and the metallic tang of blood leeches onto your tongue. Jungkook grunts; his whole body shivers against your mouth.
“Was that okay?” you ask tentatively once you’ve pulled back to admire the twin crescent impressions you left behind. There isn’t that much blood. The two small wounds from your teeth are already clotted.
Jungkook lets out a heavy exhale as his body finally relaxes back against the bed. His cock twitches beside your face, producing a thick string of pre-cum that has your mouth watering for a taste.
“That was,” he pants, “hot as fuck.”
Pride fills you, and your body kindly reminds you with an intense throb in your clit, how much it turns you on when Jungkook talks like that. “Your turn,” you urge, desperate to get his teeth on your skin and his cock in your pussy.
Jungkook growls his approval, letting his alpha strength take over, and maneuvers you easily into a kneeling position in front of him. Using a gentle hand in your hair, he pulls you up until your back is pressed against his chest, giving him unfettered access to the front of your body while being able to tease your clit with the tip of his length.
“Are you ready for me?” he asks, using the hand in your hair to angle your head sideways so he can lick along the side of your neck. “Let’s see.” His other hand slides down the front of your body, tweaking your nipples on the way, until his middle finger grazes over your swollen, aching clit.
“Don’t tease me,” you say between clenched teeth. Your omega adds her indignation to your own, making your words come out laced with additional grit.
“I just want a little taste,” Jungkook whispers as he hooks his finger lower and massages it along your slit, collecting a generous amount of slick as he does so. You watch as his finger comes up and disappears beside your face.
The wet laving sound of Jungkook sucking his finger sends a shudder through you. You reach down with your hands, cupping Jungkook’s cock in one and using the other to part the lips of your pussy so you can fit him against your entrance. “Fuuuck,” you drawl out as the broad head of his cock slides in.
“I love the way your pussy tastes,” Jungkook moans, dropping his hand to your hip and using it to guide your ass back against him, forcing him deeper. “It’s almost as good as how it feels.”
His fingers prod along your hip, sliding until his palm rests over your lower belly. You whimper, rocking your hips the best you can, and place your hand over his. “How do I look?” you ask. “You once told me I’d look so pretty once I was pregnant with your pup. Do you still think that?”
“You are,” he starts, “the single most”—he emphasizes the words with long, rolling strokes of his cock that have his knot kissing your lower lips with every forward motion—”beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Even before I fucked you raw and knocked you up.” The beautiful, endearing words contrast so wildly with the dirty confession he tacks on at the end. Proving once again that Jungkook knows exactly how to wind you up and have you begging for more.
“Prove it,” you goade, intentionally dipping your head to the side to expose your neck further to him.
The moment his teeth touch your skin, you both freeze. It lasts only a second, the time it takes for them to sink into the tender expanse of your scent gland. It’s like a double punch to the gut; you can feel it all the way in your soul. The bond snaps into place the same instant Jungkook fits his knot inside you, and you explode, disintegrating into a million tiny little points of pleasure.
Your body opens for him, both physically and mentally. What was once a small trickle of feeling now becomes a deluge of intensity. You’re vaguely aware of Jungkook groaning as he meets his own release, throbbing heavily within your walls. You can feel him beneath your skin, feel the way your own body is wrapped so tightly around his knot, and the infinite pleasure that’s flooding through both of your systems.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook mumbles against your neck, his teeth finally pulling free from your skin. “I can feel everything.”
It’s hard to tell where he begins, and you end. There is a sense of middling permanence, the perfect balance between alpha and omega. You once feared that submitting to him completely would change you in some cataclysmic way. And, it has…only, you don’t feel damned. In fact, it’s far more empowering than you ever thought possible.
Jungkook brushes his tongue along the fresh bite, tending to your wound in a tender way that has you slumping over. He follows you down, gently rutting his hips, which forces his knot to rub and grate inside of you, flooding you with another luscious rush of dopamine, like a second orgasm.
“Jungkook?” you ask, trying not to fall asleep as he continues to nuzzle your neck, and his knot keeps you secured so close to his warm body.
“Hmm?” he hums. Jungkook settles you both on your side, holding you against his chest with one hand and stroking and petting with soft, sensual strokes along every inch of your body that he can reach with the other.
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“I promise never to make you doubt me ever again. You are my soulmate, my Luna…the mother of my child. You are my everything.”
And just as Jungkook said, he made you his, and now he’s yours. Forever.
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chaos-in-deepspace · 14 days
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LNDS Xavier: Pinned Up (18+)
This fic is an amalgamation of like three different inspirational outlets, okay. I didn't want to write this. I was forced to. First freaking @nati-cutie-patootie was like "Hey, this song is so Xavier, right?", then the Xavier brainrot began. Then I woke up and saw THIS POST by @ellereath and was like "Well I'm a writer and I was already planning on doing something for Xavier so why not?" but then I saw THE IMAGE that they linked to and anyway there is no space in heaven for me because I am an irredeemable whore who can only sin...so anyway enjoy the smut!
Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Reader implied having breasts, Gender Neutral Terms but AFAB anatomy, Wall Sex, Oral (Receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Unsafe Sex, Squirting Synopsis: You couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend, whether it was when you two worked out or just at home. How someone so sweet and soft looking could be so strong was a mystery to you, but you certainly wouldn't complain when he lifts you up and pins you to a wall with ease. Word Count: 4.8k
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Xavier
Pinned Up (18+) Xavier x Reader
You sighed, wiping your brow with the towel you had wrapped around your neck. The cool breeze cooled off your overheated skin as you turned to Xavier. He looked to be perfectly fine as he also wiped down his own brow.
You both had only done a light workout, one of those that you don’t sweat too much during it, but it takes forever for your body to cool down afterwards. It didn’t help that you two had to walk a mile to the apartments since the gym at your complex was closed down for maintenance.
“How you feelin?” You asked, breaking the silence between the two of you. Xavier, who had been focused on just making it home, turned to you with a soft smile.
“I’m a bit tired, but it’s not too bad.” He admitted and you couldn’t help but chuckle. When wasn’t this man tired, after all? It was one of those things you had found particularly endearing, especially because you knew if you ever wanted to take a nap, he wouldn’t judge you and join you in the activity.
You finally arrived at the complex, both of you groggily getting into the elevator. Xavier put in his floor number and you smiled, knowing it was a subtle invitation for you to join him. After a few minutes the door finally opened to his floor and you both got out. You trailed after Xavier as he unlocked the door, opening it and letting you go inside first.
You knew his apartment like it was your own with how often you came over. After taking off your shoes you walked over to the kitchen, standing on your toes to reach one of the higher shelves to grab the cups. You filled it with ice cold water and you silently sat on the bar stool; you slid Xavier a glass of water while you sipped on your own.
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you enjoyed the refreshing drink gliding down your throat. That was until you turned over to Xavier. He had made it into the kitchen and grabbed the water you had prepared for him.
He greedily drank from the cup, finishing it almost in one go. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and how some of the water crept down the side of his mouth and dripped down onto his chest. He was still covered in a subtle sheen of sweat that you wanted to lick off of him.
Xavier stopped as he finished his glass, noticing your stare and he shot you an almost knowing smile. He always seemed so innocent that you sometimes forgot that he was a wolf in a bunny disguise. The things he’s not only done to you, but has said to you were now clouding your mind as you bit your lip and tried focusing on something else.
“Something on your mind?” Xavier said, using his arm to wipe away the bit of water that had escaped.
You cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact with the man, “Ya, I’m totally fine.” You took another sip of the water and tried getting your head out of the gutter. Your muscles were already protesting, it was best to not poke at the beast and have him fold you like a pretzel. 
Xavier walked over to where you were, placing his cup in the sink. He made sure to subtly graze your arm as he did so, looking over to gauge your reaction. 
You couldn’t help the involuntary shiver running down your spine. You swore his libido was rubbing off on you somehow. He managed to always rile you up way too easily and you were in a  constant state of wanting him to be buried in you. 
You tried distracting yourself, knowing that Xavier always had an assortment of snacks at the ready since he was so used to you being here (not to mention the man could eat). You stood up, looking around the pantry. Xavier’s gaze followed your form the entire time, his eyes half lidded as he gave a lazy smile at seeing how comfortable you were at his place.
It wasn’t hard to find something appealing in his pantry since he always kept your tastes in mind. A box of chocolate pocky sticks stood out and you happily took them; you opened the box and placed one of the sticks in your mouth with a satisfied hum.
As you walked back over to Xavier you couldn’t help but think of that one incident on the bus when you two went on vacation. The way he had subtly kissed you in public when you two hadn’t even started dating yet had made your heart flutter. It was around that time you had sworn you’d confess your feelings, because being with him like that had been torture. You had wanted to drag him into another kiss that day…but that was all in the past as you stared over at your cute boyfriend.
Xavier noticed the snack in your hand, taking one of the sticks and started to nibble on it. You seemed to have cooled off as you looked over at Xavier again, the content look on his face as he enjoyed the sweet treat.
“Since you’re here, would you like to borrow the shower?” He asked, glancing over at you once he noticed you staring at him again.
“Yes please…do I still have a change of clothes here?” You asked, taking another pocky stick in your mouth as you leaned over the counter.
“I think so, but if not you can just borrow some of my clothes.” He said with a shrug and you smiled.
“Sounds good to me.” You paused for a moment, “I’ll shower after I rest a bit though. I don’t want to make the commitment yet.” Even if the thought of a shower was tempting, you knew if you hopped in like this, you might not want to get out.
“We could always watch a movie together.” Xavier commented and you shook your head.
“No way, we’re all sweaty and stinky from working out, I don’t want to rub it off on the couch.” You said and Xavier stared at you with the most confused look in the world.
“But we’ve sweat on the couch before…?” You almost choked on your pocky at his blunt response. You slowly looked at him and then huffed a bit. He then walked over to where you were relaxing on the counter. He leaned his body over you, pressing his nose against your neck and smelling, “And you certainly don’t stink right now.”
You let out a small squeak as you leaned away from him, “Hey, hey, hey!” You said, pushing his face away from you as he chuckled, “You can’t do that to me right after I work out!” You whined, but couldn’t help the chuckle coming from you as well.
“I’m telling you, we both stink from sweating.” You claimed then stopped at your sudden realization. He had been really close to you a moment before and you didn’t notice any smell from him. There was no way…you turned around, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer to you as you did exactly what he had done moments ago. Your nose pressed against his neck as you sniffed.
He had the slightest musky smell, but overall he smelled like fresh spring water, linen, and a hint of birch. Just like he always did, the scent calming you like a pavlovian response as you blinked. 
“Oh this is unfair…” You grumbled, “You still smell like you’re fresh out of the shower.” You complained and Xavier chuckled, placing his hand against your hip.
“And I’m telling you that you smell fine, so let’s go relax on the couch.” Xavier said, tugging at your tank top as he tried getting you to come with him. You knew the moment you two were on the couch he was probably going to pass right out.
You hum as though thinking over your decisions before smiling, “Nope!” You said, popping the ‘p’. You grab another pocky stick and put it in your mouth then place the box down. Perhaps you should just take a quick shower and then cuddle with him on the couch; that seemed like the best compromise.
You start walking off, but Xavier’s grip on your hip tightened as he spun your body around until you were chest to chest with him. He leaned in, grabbing the end of your pocky stick and nibbling on it until your lips met in a sweet and short kiss.
You couldn’t help the small smile spreading across your face as he pressed against your lips again in a series of soft kisses. Xavier brought a hand up to adjust the angle of your face to where he wanted it, intent on enjoying this moment to the fullest.
You lean back, but Xavier was quick to pull you closer and finally pressed his lips back to yours with a purpose. His lips molded with yours perfectly and you could feel him nibbling on your lower lip, his warm hand going under your shirt to caress the skin there.
You open your mouth for him, tasting the sweet pocky that lingered there as he tilted your head. Your hands grasped at his shirt, dragging him into you as he grabbed you until your pelvis was pressed against his. You groaned into his mouth, loving how just his kisses could get your entire body feeling light.
When Xavier finally parts from your lips he can’t help but press his forehead against yours, painting slightly, “Maybe we should save that shower for later?” He said, implying what was to come.
You chuckle and lean up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Is this why you wanted to drag me to the couch?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His brilliant blue eyes sparkled with mischief and the smirk he wore sent a shiver down your spine.
“It hadn’t been the initial intention.” He said, going to place a kiss on your cheek, moving down your jaw and then your neck, “But I started to think about how you were looking at me earlier and figured you wouldn’t mind.” He said, nipping at your exposed neck. You let out a small gasp, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt.
“Oh, so you noticed that?” You chuckled as his hands played with the band of your shorts. He was leaving wet kisses along the column of your neck and right behind your ear, and once again you felt a small nibble but this time it was on your ear.
“How could I not? First at the gym, and then when I was drinking water. It’s pretty obvious what was going through that pretty head of yours.” He said, nuzzling his face into you. You chuckled, “Now can I please take these off?”
One of your hands went over to his shoulder, while the other began threading through his hair, “Go right ahead.” You said, giving him the permission he was waiting for. He wasted no time, pulling your tight shorts and underwear off, letting them pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, kicking the articles of clothing to some random corner of the apartment.
Xaviers fingers slowly pressed against your slick folds, feeling how wet you had gotten just from kissing him. You groaned, feeling one of his fingers easily slipping into your heat without an ounce of resistance.
“All this from just watching me?” Xavier murmured, adding another finger and curling them. You gasped, feeling him hitting your sweet spot. Xavier knew how to play your body so easily that he could make you cum within minutes of toying with your body.
“Only for you, Xav.” You whispered, spreading your legs a bit to give him a better angle. Xavier groaned at your words, using his free hand to cup your face and dragging you in for another heated kiss. His tongue played against your own and you whimpered, feeling his fingers were intent on making you cum all over them.
“Fuck…” Xavier can’t help but groan, his fingers leaving you for a moment. You let out a whimper at the loss of something inside you. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he hoisted you up. Your legs immediately went to hook around his torso. Your pelvis pressed right against his and you groaned at feeling his cock straining in his pants.
It was effortless on his part as he casually walked over to a wall, pressing your back against it and rutting his hips up into yours. You gasped at feeling how he ground into you, your walls clenching around nothing and you were tugging at his shirt, “Xav…” You whined his name out and he chuckled.
“I know, my star, but I need to do something first.” Xavier said as he seemed to struggle for a moment to stop grinding against you. You just felt so good against him even with a layer of fabric blocking him from you. Your cunt soaked into the fabric of his pants and he could feel every twitch of your pussy through them.
You let out a startled gasp as he managed to hoist you up higher, adjusting your legs until your legs were hooked around his shoulders, his hands firmly holding you up by your ass. He gave the flesh a teasing squeeze as he looked up at you.
He began peppering kisses along your thighs, enjoying how your thighs tensed for a moment under every small touch on his lips, “Xav, what are you planning?” It was damn obvious what he wanted, but you couldn’t help but flush at the thought.
“I just want a small taste.” Xavier said, his lips slowly trailing closer to your folds. You groaned, pushing his head away from you with a blush coating your cheeks and neck.
“N-not without a shower first, geez.” You said, but Xavier was on a mission. He looked up at you, utilizing his puppy eyes and making you groan in annoyance. You tried not looking at him, but he gave your ass another firm squeeze and your eyes snapped down.
You swore those sapphire eyes should be illegal. Just that look was enough to get you to fold every time…sometimes literally. You looked away again with a small pout before admitting defeat.
“F-fine…but I warned you…” You murmured, feeling positively embarrassed at your current position. However, that was all Xavier needed to hear as his tongue left his pink lips, slowly licking up your sopping cunt.
You let out a groan, your hand threading into his hair and tugging a bit as his tongue began working its magic on you. He really did know how to unravel you as his tongue went into your tight heat, curling up. His nose brushed up against your clit as he enthusiastically ate you out. The obscene wet noises made you close your eyes and bite your lip.
His mouth went to suck on your clit, making you moan loudly and your grip on his hair tightened. You could feel him groaning against you as your hips rolled into his face. He grabbed your ass, giving it a tight squeeze as he dragged you in impossibly closer, loving how you began grinding in earnest on his face.
Your thighs began shaking and you knew you were close with that familiar coiling in your stomach, “F-fuck Xa-Xavier!” You managed to squeak out, “C-close.” You said, before the tension inside of you snapped.
Your thighs clamping down on his head as you rode his face, loving how his tongue fucked you through the entire thing. He couldn’t help but watch you the entire time, your facial expression as you used his face for your own pleasure made his cock twitch.
After you rode it out, his tongue just made lazy circles around your clit until you were flinching away and relaxing your thighs so his head was no longer in a vice grip. You were panting as you stared down at him.
Xavier parted from your folds, your release dripping down from his chin as he licked his lips and smirked at you, “Thanks for the meal.” He said, pressing another kiss against your thigh. You flushed, looking away and covering your mouth with your hand. He chuckled at the bashful look you had as he readjusted you again.
It was too easy for him to lift you off his shoulders and place you back against the wall with your legs securely around his torso. He began leaving kisses along your face, rolling his hips back up against you. Despite having just comed, you groaned and rolled in time with him.
Your hand trailed between your bodies, pushing down his pants until his cock was free. The head was a bright red with precum dribbling from the tip freely. You used it to help lube up your grasp, giving him a few strokes and making his groan as he rolled in time with your hand.
You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of having his length down your throat. While he didn’t taste like candy, he had this certain, subtle taste that you could only describe as Xavier. You craved it and Xavier easily caught how your pink tongue darted out of your mouth as you looked down at his cock.
He leaned against you, his mouth against your ear, “You can suck it some other time, my star, for now I need to be inside you.” He said, making you shiver from the proximity. 
You let out a small whine of disappointment as he shifted you. You grasped his cock and lined it up with your pussy, groaning as he rutted his hips against your slick folds and bumping against your sensitive clit.
“Wouldn’t this be easier if we were on a couch?” You asked, worried about his arms. You knew he was strong, hell him casually lifting you up and down was testament to that, but you didn’t want him to tire out.
“Aren’t you the one who claimed we were too ‘stinky’ to lay on the couch?” He teased, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “Besides, our workout today was too light. I didn’t work on my arms at all.”
You chuckled despite feeling his blunt cock head pressing into your opening. Your chuckled slowly turned into a drawn out moan as he slipped inch by inch into your core. You could feel every bit of him, the one vein on the underside of his cock grazing against your walls and driving you insane.
He was guiding your hips onto him until you were finally settled fully on his cock, your pelvis flush against his own. He gave you a moment to adjust to his girth, taking his time to mark up your neck properly while you gripped at his shirt.
“Starlight?” Xavier murmured after a moment. You hummed in response, feeling how his cock twitched in response to just your voice, “Take your shirt off for me, please.” He said and you nodded.
He lifted his head, watching as your hands went under the edge of your tank top as you slowly took it off. You tossed it across the room before doing the same with your sports bra. The moment your chest was free, Xavier’s cock strained inside of you again. You groaned, rolling your hips on him and he bit back a groan of his own.
At the angle he was at, he could really only stare at your chest, so you decide to tease him. You leaned your back against the wall fully as your hands went up to cup your breasts, squeezing them together as you pinched your nipples.
Xavier groaned, finally thrusting up into you at seeing how you played with your own breasts. You gasped, your arms going around his shoulders quickly so you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to fall off him.
Your body was still leaned back so Xavier could watch how your breasts bounced with every thrust up into you. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to look. His eyes going to your face, your breasts, then finally where you two were connected. Your eyes trailed over his form, whimpering as your hands tugged at his sports tank.
“X-Xav…” You grumbled, wanting to feel his skin fully on you. Your hands tugging some more before wandering underneath to feel his hot skin. His abs flexed under your touch and you began rolling your hips with him.
“S-sorry Bunny, but I can’t take it off right now. Just bear with me.” Xavier grunted at seeing how upset you were about not being able to see him fully. If he went to take it off it would mean he’d have to set you down, and he didn’t want to be apart for even a moment. Not with how your hot walls seemed to suck him in.
You stopped putting up a fight, your hands moving to grab onto his exposed biceps as he began bouncing you on his cock. You were moaning without reservation; the sound of skin on skin slapping almost drowning it out. 
You felt Xavier pull his cock out until just the head remained before slamming back up into you. Your nails dug into his biceps at the sensation as you let out a high pitched mewl, leaning back into his body. He groaned at feeling how tightly your pussy clenched as he repeated the motion, angling his hips until he was slamming right into your sweet spot.
You could feel yourself being built up again, that tight and uncomfortable coil in your stomach threatening to burst at any moment. It didn’t help that you were angled just right so every thrust had your clit grinding against him.
Xavier could feel how your walls pulsed around his length as he leaned over, “Go on, starlight, cum on my cock for me. Can you do that, beautiful?” He asked, not letting up his pace as he brutally abused your sweet spot like his life depended on it.
You felt that euphoric coil snap as your entire body tingled as you came, your walls becoming like a vice grip on Xavier’s length to the point where he could barely pump his cock in you. Your nails dug angry crescent shapes into his arms, stinging him and making Xavier groan. 
He continued fucking into you, his grip on your thighs just a bit tighter as he guided your cunt on him repeatidly. You were coming down from your high, already feeling another wash of arousal coursing through you.
You gasped, placing your head in the crook of his neck as you laid sloppy, wet kisses on anything you could reach, panting his name right on his shoulder.
Xavier’s dick twitched in response to hearing your wanton moans right up against his ear, “Just a little bit more, my star, almost there.” He grunted out, his hips rolling into yours until he could pick up his pace again.
You felt so overstimulated, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let him use your body like a toy. You leaned back against the wall again, your body bouncing delicious to every thrust of his. Xavier watched where he entered you, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock as evidence of your release.
He groaned, “Where can I cum, starlight?” He said, not even knowing if he’d have the strength to pull out at this point.
Your entire body was buzzing and you could barely hear him with the blood rushing in your ears, “I-inside please, fuck Xav so close.” You murmured, your words coming out slurred as you felt a different tension in you. It wasn’t how you normally felt when you came and you squeezed your eyes, the pleasure getting to almost be too much.
Xavier let out an almost guttural growl as he bucked his hips into yours a few more times, his cock twitching with every rope of cum he shot into your tight heat. It was too much for you, your walls clamping down again as warm tears fell down your cheeks.
This time you felt a rush leave you, liquid squirting out of your cunt as you soaked his abs and lap in your juices. Xavier just watched, absolutely mesmerized by your release, his eyes widening as he continued pumping into you a few more times until he could see your legs shaking and you began mumbling something about it being too much.
He pulled out of you slowly, your combined release dripping onto his pants and the floor as he grabbed your legs tighter once he realized they were going slack. He leaned in, peppering kisses all over your face and neck.
“Did so good for my, my star, my galaxy, my love.” Xavier said, helping you come down from your high. You didn’t even realize the tears that had come out as you stared at him with glassy eyes.
“How are you feeling?” He asked once you started to look a bit more coherent. You murmured something, leaning in to nuzzle against his neck.
“M’fine…” You said, letting out a yawn. You felt absolutely spent and Xavier chuckled. You felt the cool wall leaving you as he began walking. You could hear him kicking off his pants that had probably been falling off his hips midway through your session.
You flinched at the fluorescent light as he flicked the switch on in the bathroom. He sat at the edge of the tub, turning on the water and feeling it to make sure it was the perfect temperature. You felt content, resting in his lap as the rushing water wanted to lull you off to sleep.
“Hey, come on, wake up. I don’t need you drowning in the bath.” Xavier teased, his soft voice wasn’t helping but you did open your eyes to look at him. You felt your breath being taken away at the look in his eyes, it was such a soft gaze that you knew was reserved just for you.
“Not gonna drown.” You said with a small pout and Xavier couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him as he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. You instinctively went to follow his mouth and he shook his head.
“Careful, I don’t know if you could handle another round if you get me riled up.” He said, a hand going to cup your cheek and wipe away the dried tears there. You were still pouting so he sighed, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
“You’re joining me in the bath so it’s not like we have to worry about me drowning either way.” You pointed out to him.
“Who said I’d be joining you?” He couldn’t help but tease you. You just seemed so adorable at the moment.
“I did, obviously.” You said, then you tugged at his shirt, “Can we finally take this off?” You asked, noticing the bottom edge seemed to be absolutely soaked.
“That seems like a good idea.” Xavier said, going to take it off of him. You easily balanced on his leg as he ripped the sports tank off and threw it over to the laundry basket he kept in the bathroom. You looked down to see the thin happy trail he had was also soaked and you gave him a confused look. You two had fucked a lot, and you hadn’t seen his pelvis this wet before.
“Why are you dripping?” You said, glancing at the droplets glistening off his abs.
Xavier smirked, “You don’t remember squirting all over me?” He asked, his innocent demeanor was crushed by his words. How someone could look like an angel while saying that was a mystery.
As his words settled in you felt embarrassed, your hand going to cover your mouth, “Say sike.” You finally uttered.
“It’s the truth, Starshine.” He teased, “I’ll have to figure out how to recreate it another time so you can remember.” You groaned in despair and looked away.
“Can we forget that ever happened?” You murmured.
“No can do, it’s engraved in my mind. I won’t bring it up though if you’d prefer.” He said and you huffed before pushing him a bit towards the tub.
“Fine…now let’s get cleaned off…and then watch a movie on the couch.” Those demands seemed good with Xavier as he dragged you into the warm water below, content to have you snuggled against his chest as he worked on getting you both cleaned.
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